Children of the Goddess
by Zen Lady
Summary: Dumbledore asks a former student to help detect and catch the murderer Sirius Black before he can harm anyone. As events unfold, the past is slowly revealed and the events of the future are affected as former lovers are reunited. RL/OC
1. Prologue: At the Request of the Professo

**Children of the Goddess**

by Zen Lady

"Death next to love is a trivial thing."  
– Madmartigan, _Willow_

…whose smile reminded him of everything that he had ever loved in his life, of everything that had ever been of value and holy in his life…  
– Herman Hesse, _Siddhartha_

* * *

**Prologue: At the Request of the Professor**

At precisely eleven o'clock on a frigid evening in early November, Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, raised the silver knocker on the door of a little house at the end of a lane and rapped three times. A petite, dark-haired witch opened the door for him after only a few seconds. "Professor Dumbledore," she greeted in a slow, almost impeded way of speaking but with a warm smile. "How lovely to see you."

"Good evening, Contessa. You are looking as enchanting as ever." He examined her very elegant pale pink robes with an eye of approval.

The lady placed her hands on the old wizard's shoulders, and he leaned down to allow her to kiss him on each cheek. "Welcome to my huble home. Please come and sit with me. I have some Cabernet Sauvignon breathing." She stepped back to allow him to enter.

"Excellent, excellent." She led him into a narrow sitting room furnished with two wing chairs and a matching low divan upholstered in rich jacquard fabric along with several delicate round cherry wood tables; a fire had been lit in the hearth and heavy drapes were half drawn over diaphanous chiffon window panels. Professor Dumbledore took a chair as the lady fetched the glasses and bottle along with a plate of dainty biscuits. She poured two glasses and presented one to her guest before seating herself on the divan. "To your good health," he toasted.

"And to yours," she replied, sipping from the delicate crystal glass which she held by its long stem. "Ah! That is lovely."

"As usual, you have most exquisite taste." He sat back and looked at her. "Are you well, Calyxa?"

A small smile appeared on her face and she nodded. "I feel like a different person after this year. I cannot remember when I have felt so content. Between you and Jillian, I have been very lucky."

"I am very happy to hear it. Of course, being so far away, we knew nothing of your troubles until we read of them in the papers."

"You have been extraordinarily kind throughout everything," she replied, "and if I may say, I should be happy to help you in any way that I can."

His eyes twinkled. "I suppose I should have expected such perception from you."

"You seem troubled and very worried," she answered.

"I am." He took another sip of wine. "As you are aware, Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban Prison."

The lady's eyes widened. "Yes, of course I had heard."

"No one knows how he did it."

"The newspapers say that no one has ever escaped before."

"Yes. But there is something else, something that the papers do not tell." He studied her as she listened with a slight frown creasing her brow. "He was accused of betraying the Potters and revealing their hiding place to Voldemort."

Eyes wide and mouth ajar, she stared at him as if he were mad.

"It is what he was condemned for. Not mere murder, he was found guilty of betraying his friends to their deaths and afterwards killing many innocent bystanders. And now, there is more."

"More?"

"Shortly before his escape, Sirius was overheard talking in his sleep. He was saying 'He's at Hogwarts,' over and over."

The contessa stared at him with her dark eyes huge in her pale face. "Who is?"

"Young Harry Potter."

She blinked and shook her head. "You cannot think he would… harm the child."

"It does seem to be the only explanation, but no, I don't honestly think he would."

With a sigh, the lady set down her glass, rose, and went to the window where she twitched aside the chiffon and gazed out into the moonlit garden. "I could not believe it then, and I cannot believe it now."

"I feel the same way, and I knew him, man and boy. At the scene of the crime, he made no attempt to run, and despite the number of witnesses, I think there is something important we don't know. On the other hand," Dumbledore shrugged, "you said yourself that he had a cruel streak, even as a boy."

"Yes," she sighed. "And that horrible mother." With a little shudder, she turned to face him. "I do not think that there is much that I can say to aid you, but I am willing to do whatever I might to help. That poor little boy! How much does he know?"

"Too much, I'm afraid." Dumbledore met her gaze. "You have a unique quality: you knew Sirius well enough to have got his measure."

Her face went very white and she reached out both hands to grip the back of the empty chair. "Professor… you cannot think I can help to _capture_ him." The pale, petite contessa in her fashionable shell pink robes and elegantly coiled hair looked almost faint at the idea of having to confront the dangerous criminal. The absurdity of the question, of the idea that Albus Dumbledore would want her to do such a thing, would have been humorous had the situation not been so grave.

"Of course not. All I need you to do is detect him. I want to talk to him, to discover what really happened." He stood, took up the wine bottle, and refilled her glass. "There is something else. A few nights ago, Sirius somehow found a way past all the dementors and got into the castle."

"_Potente Signora!_," she whispered, aghast.

"No one was hurt. It was Halloween Night, so everyone was down at the feast. He tried to enter the Gryffindor dormitory, but since he didn't have the password, he could not get in. Instead, he slashed the entrance portrait. He must have fled, then, for we searched the castle and found no trace of him."

The poor contessa maneuvered into a chair. "The Gryffindor portrait? The Fat Lady?"

"You remember? Yes. Very violently, in fact."

"It is beyond belief," she murmured. When she looked up at Dumbledore, her expression was mournful. "What can I do, then?"

"Well, his escape means he must have found a way to confound the dementors. Whatever his secret is, though, they cannot seem to detect him."

"But I can."

"You can."

Wrapping her arms around herself, she closed her eyes. "What must I do?"

"I would like you to come to Hogwarts and stay there until he's found. In the event that he tries to get into the castle again, you could be my warning."

Her eyes opened and she blinked at him. "Come to Hogwarts?"

"I'm sure you'll be able to do your research there. I shall announce that you need some of the books in our library."

She stared at him. "You have the aptitude for the criminal mind, sir."

He laughed in delight. "After all these years teaching teenagers, I have to." His merry smile faded, and he met her gaze. "If the dementors catch him, they will not just take him back to Azkaban. I think you are aware of the results of a Dementor's Kiss. You see, it is a race against time. If we can find him first, then perhaps we may spare him that ghastly end."

Twisting her hands in her lap, she chewed on her lip as she considered his proposal. "What of Amanita?"

"She will come along, as will whomever else you may need."

"She will be going to Borodin after the Winter Solstice. I am certain that you will not want him at the school." With one hand, she rubbed her eyes in a weary gesture. "I can scarcely believe that I should be allowed there."

He smiled at her. "Don't fret, Calyxa, I shall handle all the arrangements. And you will be happy to hear that you will be able to renew some old friendships when you arrive."

Unable to refrain, she smiled as she reached for her wine glass. "Is dear old Professor Flitwick well?"

"He is, and I am certain he will be overjoyed to be able to discuss your book and other research at length."

"He never got tired of my asking questions," she sighed, sipping her wine. "He never lost his temper, never let anything ruffle him. He always told us what was theoretical and what was not known. Though, I think Professor McGonagall wanted to strangle me sometimes."

"I think you will find that she is quite proud of all you've been able to accomplish thus far, and as much as she hates Divination, she once prophesized your future."

Now that the earlier alarm was forgotten, the little Italian witch's face lit with pleasure as she restrained a grin into a ladylike smile. "Did she?"

"I cannot say exactly what her words were," said Dumbledore, "but it was something about you one day discovering something that would make you world famous."

"Truly? That is high praise indeed from one of her stature."

"There are others you'll remember. You most probably do not know, but we have Severus Snape teaching Potions."

"Severus Snape?" she repeated in surprise. "As with Sirius, he is just another example of how poor my judgment used to be," she remarked in a self-deprecating tone. "But he is now a teacher of children?"

"You will see for yourself very shortly," he assured her. "There is another of whom your judgment was markedly better, our new professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts: Remus Lupin."

The contessa's eyes widened and her mouth opened as she stared at him. Sitting back in her chair, she shook her head as if in slow motion, her thoughts traveling back to another time and place.

Dumbledore waited for a response, but none came. After many long seconds of silence, he said, "I trust that this news will not influence you to change your mind."

"Remus Lupin," she said, her thoughts far away. "That is a name that I have not heard in many years." After a moment, she took a long sip of wine, and when she spoke, her voice was hesitant. "Does he know I am to come to the school?"

"Not yet. I could not inform the staff until you had agreed." He was frowning at her. "Calyxa, I will ask nothing about what happened in the past; however, you must tell me if there is some reason why you will not come. Apart from the danger, I mean."

"No," she said even more slowly than usual. "No, not at all. I shall come and will try to help you." She took another drink of wine, still thinking, and finally turned her eyes up to his. "Sir, he most assuredly is the one who could tell you how Sirius may have entered the castle."

"I am well aware of that," said the old wizard with a satisfied smile. "Thank you. I shall look forward to welcoming you to Hogwarts the day after tomorrow."


	2. An Old Friend

**Chapter 1: An Old Friend**

As the staffroom at Hogwarts filled, the drone of the conversations grew in proportion. There was much to talk about: a little over a week ago, an escaped convict had entered and vandalized the school; just a few days ago, dementors on the school grounds had caused a dangerous Quidditch accident that could have cost the life of a student. Some of the staff seemed nervous, others were more reserved, but all of them were concerned. Something had to be done, for sure, and all eyes turned expectantly to the headmaster as he took his seat.

"As you all know, the dementors are restricted from entering school grounds under any circumstances," he began.

"But, sir," interrupted Professor Snape. "What if they locate Black, and he eludes them by escaping onto school grounds? Will they be permitted to pursue?"

"No, they'll come only if summoned, for we won't need them," Dumbledore told him. "It's the reason I've asked you all to come here today. I have made arrangements for a distinguished visitor to come here, someone who has the ability to detect Sirius Black should he return. Rather than allowing the dementors access to the school, we shall be hosting what the students will see as a scholar who would like to use the books in Hogwarts Library."

They all digested the news. It was a reasonable story, for the school did have many ancient texts that scholars came to the castle to use.

"Exactly how will he be able to detect Black," asked Professor Flitwick with a deep frown, "when even the dementors haven't been able to?"

"All I can say is that she will be more effective than dementors," Dumbledore explained. "In addition, our guest will be rather unusual – and an old friend for several of you."

"An old friend?"

"Whom do you mean?"

The old wizard smiled around at them. "The Contessa di Janarra."

Silence. A variety of half-forgotten memories came flooding back from those long ago days, memories both lovely and sad. "Calyxa di Janarra," said Professor Flitwick with immense pleasure. "Ravenclaw, of course."

"Do you mean the witch from the newspapers?" asked Professor Trelawney. "The one who is _divorced_?" She whispered the last word as if it were too dangerous to say aloud. "The one who is seen with a different wizard each week?"

"I believe there has been some publicity," said the headmaster smoothly. "I am speaking of the author of _Mind over Magic_."

"She was only a student here briefly," Professor Sprout mused. "Never took my class. Silent little thing, as I remember."

"That girl," said Professor McGonagall with a note of exasperation in her voice, "never made a peep in class, just sat there watching, hardly blinking. After class, though, when the other students had gone, she'd have a thousand and one questions."

"Not in the library, she wasn't." Madam Pince glanced at Professor Lupin with a sour look that turned down the corners of her mouth. "And she wasn't alone in that."

"Wasn't she actually engaged to Sirius Black at one time?" asked Professor Sprout. "Do you recall, Severus? She was in your year, wasn't she?"

"I believe she was a year younger," Snape replied. "But of course, _Lupin_ knew her better than I did." His gaze speared the other man.

Professor Lupin nodded when attention turned to him, and although his expression was carefully neutral, he seemed uncomfortable. "It was quite a few years ago, but I seem to remember she was constantly trying to perform spells without a wand."

"Oh, yes!" said Flitwick with a chuckle. "You presented that amazing Charms project with the music. Quite a show. Yes, and Calyxa's favorite question was 'if you can do _some_ magic without a wand or incantation, why can't you do _other_ magic without them?'"

Those who had known the girl laughed with him. "She spent hours trying to figure out 'how the Sorting Hat worked'," Dumbledore told them.

"Yes, she always wanted to know _how_ things worked and _why_." Professor Flitwick sighed. "I remember it like yesterday: 'But _where_ does the magic come from? From our minds or from our souls?'"

"I had that one as well," Professor McGonagall agreed. "Innumerable times."

"Headmaster, the students are going to be curious about her," said Madam Pomfrey. "Those who read _The Quibbler_, or even _The Daily Prophet_, will pass the gossip to those who don't."

"Students will talk," said McGonagall. "Nothing new in that. It will be no different then when Lockhart was here."

"It might even be a good opportunity for them to learn something," said Flitwick. "Has anyone read her recent article on Squibs?" A few people nodded. "Interesting bit. Apparently, she worked with them for over a year. There were two or three Squibs of various ages and backgrounds."

"Three," said Snape.

"Yes, three, thank you," said Flitwick. "Well, don't you know that _all_ of them eventually found the capacity for magic? All of them."

"The study was flawed in that the subjects involved were not officially documented beforehand," said Snape.

"But still an amazing bit of research," countered Flitwick.

"Won't there be complaints from parents when they learn she's here?" asked Madam Pomfrey. "Imagine what will be said about a scandalous foreign divorcee influencing their children."

"Regardless of what has been published in the media, the contessa is a respected scholar. She also has a method of detecting persons and can thus tell us instantly when Sirius Black is in the vicinity. It's what we need to keep the students safe." Dumbledore looked around at all of them with a steely gaze. "The seriousness of the situation cannot be overstated; therefore, we must help the contessa in any way we can."

No one spoke in reply. There were nods and some frowns but no voiced concerns or arguments. It was proof enough of the severity of the problem.

"Mr. Filch, the contessa will be arriving tomorrow along with her daughter and a servant. I trust you have ample time to prepare for their arrival."

"We'll be ready for 'em, Professor," Filch replied, sounding subdued.

"Excellent." The headmaster nodded around at all of them. "We'll welcome her tomorrow evening with a feast. No need to inform the students beforehand. They'll find out soon enough."

* * *

The others had gone down to dinner already, but Ron and Harry arrived late, which was not an uncommon occurrence. As a few other students made their way into the Great Hall, Ron stopped in the doorway and gazed around with his mouth open. "Bloody hell." Harry looked up to see what had elicited this reaction.

The Great Hall had been enchanted to resemble the Grand Canal of Venice at dusk. The walls were lined with palaces: Baroque, Renaissance, Byzantine, Gothic, and Romanesque all leaning together in crumbling, faded glory. A royal blue sky was edged with rose and gold at one end with the first stars at the other. A _vaporetto,_ or water bus, roared by and zoomed off, leaving behind only the sound of sloshing water. Persistent below everything was the plaintive mewing of street cats.

They found that they had to make their way over a little bridge to the Hufflepuff table before going over another bridge to get to the Gryffindor table. "Why would anyone in their right mind want to live in a place like this?" Ron muttered as they found seats between Hermione and Ginny on one side and the twins on the other.

"What's this for, anyway?" asked Harry.

"We know," said Fred.

"We saw her," said George.

"Her who?" asked Ron.

"The Countess di Janarra," the twins replied in unison.

"Huh?" Harry frowned at them in confusion.

"The one in _The Daily Prophet_?" asked Ron.

"The very one."

"Walking with McGonagall."

"Mum says she's a disgrace," Ginny informed Harry.

"Nah," said Ron. "Dad knows her from the Ministry. He says that the stuff they write in the paper is rubbish."

"But Mum still thinks she's awful," Ginny reminded.

"She's a really famous author, you know," said Hermione, but no one paid attention.

"What's she like?" Harry asked the twins.

Fred and George looked at each other. "Short."

"We thought she was one of the ghosts at first," George said.

"We hid behind a suit of armor when we heard McGonagall – "

" – talking about a feast tonight."

"They were walking together, and the countess stopped and looked right at us."

"We thought she could see us –"

" – thought we were caught."

"McGonagall looked as well, but she couldn't see us."

"Maybe she heard you," Hermione suggested. "Maybe the countess heard you."

"Could be." Fred's stomach growled hungrily as he spoke. "Let's get on with it," he sighed.

His was not the only impatient stomach in the hall. The students waited restlessly – and hungrily – as all the staff assembled at the table until only two places were unoccupied. Professor McGonagall finally entered with another witch.

Although the Contessa di Janarra was young, Harry thought that both the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her complexion made her look very tired or possibly ill. Her face was dominated by large, dark eyes and striking arched eyebrows that made her look somewhat exotic.

She wore very formal high-collared, floor-length robes of stiff grey brocade embroidered with ornate designs in silver thread. Instead of wearing a hat, her dark hair was plaited and coiled upon her head, and she seemed to glide rather than walk. No wonder George had thought she was one of the ghosts with those Medieval robes and effortless gait.

Now, however, she stopped and gazed all around her at the students and the Hall in wonderment. The song of a gondolier drifted to them, as if from far away. As Harry watched, McGonagall spoke in her ear and gestured at a stripped-down old gondola, and both witches stepped down into the boat. They remained standing as two ferrymen poled them past the Ravenclaw table to the front of the Hall.

"Her robes are older than Dumbledore's," said Harry.

Ron glanced up at the dais. "They look new to me."

"I meant old-fashioned."

"Yeah. Weird. Maybe foreign witches wear old stuff like that?" Ron mused.

"Honestly," sighed Hermione. "Don't you read anything other than the headlines? Those are the formal robes of the Triad Clans of the Stregharia."

"The what?"

"The Stregharia. Italian hereditary witches." Hermione looked at them both disapprovingly. "If you'd read more than the scandals, you'd know that."

"I don't read any of that," Ron insisted. "I can't help seeing the pictures, though, and Mum believes it all."

"You have captured Venice perfectly, Professor Flitwick," they heard the contessa call to the diminutive Charms teacher as the ferry neared the staff table. "The _traghetto _and even my father's house." She gestured to an elegant marble palazzo with the doors thrown open to the air of the coming night. "Except for the smell."

A chuckle rose from several sources around the room. "Calyxa di Janarra, it is an honor to have you here," he countered as his former student stepped from the boat and started up the steps.

Sinking to one knee, she embraced the ancient little wizard and kissed him formally upon both cheeks. Harry could no longer hear what they said to each other

After that, Professor McGonagall performed the introductions to the rest of the teachers and staff, a few of whom remembered the contessa. When they came to Professor Snape, she reached to embrace him and kiss his cheeks as he stood stiffly. The students watched with open mouths.

"Did you see that?" Ron asked, wide-eyed. "Thought she'd've turned to stone."

Several of the boys sniggered, but Hermione glared at them, and then Harry turned back to see what was happening and if it was nearly time to eat.

Down at the end of the table, the contessa stood looking at Professor Lupin, whose patched and frayed robes looked more impoverished than usual next to hers. For a moment, she seemed incandescent, lit from within by a silvery light, and her face shone with joy. And then her expression was guarded, closed. As with the others, she kissed his cheeks formally, but there was no embrace, and she turned away quickly to be led to her seat. Harry pondered, for a moment, what he thought he had seen, but none of the others seemed to have noticed, so he said nothing.

When all was settled, Professor Dumbledore stood up to deliver a short speech. "As you all know, tonight we welcome the world-renowned scholar, Contessa di Janarra, who will be doing research here for some time. We are delighted to have such a distinguished author visit us, and I trust that we shall all endeavor to assist her in her work. Welcome, Contessa."

As there was a smattering of applause from the students, the lady beamed at the elderly headmaster, and a moment later, the food appeared and the feast began.

* * *

Acknowledgements: Thanks to Vaughn and Phoenix for beta-reading and to Finrod the Faithful for advice. 


	3. The Caretaker's Errand

**Chapter 2: The Caretaker's Errand**

Had he heard George Weasley's remark about having mistaken Contessa di Janarra for a ghost, Mr. Filch may have secretly agreed, for he found her frustratingly elusive. Since her arrival at the castle, he had been attempting to speak privately with her, but he had not found the opportunity. It had not been for lack of trying, that was for sure. Somehow, she never seemed to be available for a private word, and he could not speak with her publicly.

Early every morning, she would bring her daughter to the Great Hall for breakfast. Obscenely early, Filch thought, but he supposed that she did not want to disturb the staff during breakfast with the tiresome presence of a small child. Although he considered all children a nuisance, very young children always seemed to make the most noise. Their breakfasting early made sense, for the little one would be taken off to her nanny before most of the staff came to breakfast. For his own purpose, it meant that he could not speak with her in the morning, which was all that mattered to him, after all.

The first few days at Hogwarts, the lady spent both the mornings and afternoons in the library, where he could not speak to her, for it was too public. As she read bits of ancient essays in antique volumes or sat staring at nothing and tracing a pattern on the tabletop with her finger, whispering clusters of girls always seemed to be peering at her and talking behind their hands about silly, trivial things, such as the style and color of her robes. Such a thing would have annoyed Filch under normal circumstances; now that he was trying to speak privately with her, it frustrated him nearly to the point of rage.

At midday, Signora Chalaza, the nanny, would bring the little girl to the Hall to have lunch with her mother. Afterthat, the three Italian females disappeared to their quarters for more than an hour. Later, Filch would spy the contessa back in the library where she remained for most of the afternoon.

The little girl was never brought to dinner in the Hall, and Filch thought he would have the opportunity to speak to the contessa, to come upon her as if unexpected and bring up the subject as if unplanned. Unfortunately, she always left the Hall after dinner in discussion with Professor Flitwick or one of the others, so there was no chance to speak with her then. No, it made more sense to find her during a quiet part of the day. He bided his time as patiently as possible, for she would certainly have to sit down alone eventually.

The grim situation made Filch more surly and vicious than usual, and he set about his business with resolve. He would have to search for any opportunity and take it as soon as it presented itself. Whenever he got the chance, he practiced what he would say to her, but some of the staff glanced at him with frowns when they heard him talking to himself under his breath, so he stopped practicing, except when he was alone.

The contessa had been given an unused classroom to use as an office, and it stood to reason that she would spend some time alone there. Unfortunately, Professor Dumbledore agreed when she asked for student volunteers to participate in some of her studies, and quite a few submitted applications along with letters of permission from their parents. Even the dratted Fred and George Weasley had asked their father to write a letter, Filch knew, for he had heard them saying that they knew better than to ask their mother. Now, whenever Filch went past her office, grinding his teeth and muttering under his breath, she was interviewing students in there.

He thought he had found his opportunity when the contessa asked Professor Dumbledore if she might take a trip into the village of Hogsmeade with the little girl and the nanny one morning. Because of the foul weather, the headmaster asked Filch to see that the ladies had a carriage for their little excursion. Filch agreed to the task with such enthusiasm that Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise at the usually cantankerous caretaker. The net result of the morning's events, however, was just cruel disappointment for him, for the contessa was preoccupied with her excited daughter, and, although she thanked Filch very politely for his assistance, she otherwise spared him no attention whatsoever.

A few more days passed, and the poor man was despairing of ever getting a private interview with the contessa when he finally found her working alone in her makeshift office. The table had been drawn close to the fire because the lady was not accustomed to the cold. She was poring over a book and making notes on a long roll of parchment when he knocked on the open door and cleared his throat.

When she looked up, she blinked for a moment before her eyes focused on him. "Why, Mr. Filch. Good afternoon."

At first, he was rooted to the spot with paralyzing anxiety. Fighting the impulse to make an excuse and turn away, he had to lurch into the room to get moving and went straight to one of the chairs that had been set on the other side of her desk. He did not sit; instead, he stood beside the chair looking at the books and scrolls of parchment on the table. "Pardon me, Ma'am. I… I just wanted to check that you had everything you need."

The sentence sounded feeble even to him, and a tiny frown creased her brow as she gazed at him. "How extraordinarily kind of you to take the time to check on me," she replied. "I do indeed have everything that I need."

"That's good, very good," he said, but continued to stand there without saying what he had been practicing for over a week.

An excruciating few seconds of silence passed, and then the contessa spoke. "Would you please sit down?" she invited.

"Thank you, Ma'am." He settled in the chair and looked around the room. The drapes had been tied back from the windows, and dull, gray daylight flooded the room. The fire crackled loudly and the silence was longer this time as he plucked up his courage. "I read an article you wrote. Professor Flitwick told us about it."

"I am flattered that you read it," she remarked with a smile and no indication of impatience or puzzlement.

"About Squibs. I couldn't catch everything, but it said that you kept their names secret. That no one knows who they are."

If she was surprised by his comments, it did not show. "It is true. In such situations, there is no need to make public the names of the persons who have agreed to participate. I am always willing to keep such things confidential."

He finally raised his eyes to look at her. "I want to be one," he blurted.

The only response she made was to blink twice. At first, he thought she had not heard him, but he began to grow uncomfortable as she stared at him. It was unnerving and made him feel as if she was about to laugh at him. He could just imagine what she was going to say – _Well, you know the old saying, Filch, you can't teach an old dog new tricks! You don't really imagine an old codger like you could ever learn anything useful, do you? Don't waste my valuable time, you foolish old man._

"If you wish to begin the program, I will be glad to have you," she told him. "At the same time, you must understand that this type of work requires time and dedication. Sometimes there are months that go by without any observable progress. It is easy to get discouraged, but one must continue without stopping in order to achieve the results I described in the article."

"I don't care how long it takes," he insisted in desperation. Was she trying to refuse him politely? Was he too old? Too stupid?

"You must maintain that attitude for at least a year," she warned. "You will have to practice every day, no matter what happens."

"So you'll take me? As a student, I mean?" He clutched the arms of his chair.

"I am not a teacher," she replied. "I will guide you through the Squib program, but someone else will have to teach you how to use your magic once the time comes." She smiled at him. "That is not a concern right now, for here we are, residing in a school full of teachers. When you are ready, I am certain that Professor McGonagall or Flitwick will be happy to give you lessons."

These last sentences hardly registered in his mind. She had agreed. He was going to learn magic. After all these years, he would finally be able to do what all these idiot children could do. He sat there in amazement, unable to speak, just shaking his head slowly.

"It is necessary for us to meet regularly. You will have things to do, reading, mental and physical exercises to practice in your free time. These must be done every day."

"Yes, yes, of course, whatever you say. Any time, I'm free anytime you like."

"Then let us agree to meet in the mornings?" she suggested. "I think it is quieter here than in the afternoon –"

"Knock, knock," called a cheerful voice from the door.

"Anyone home?"

Filch groaned inwardly, for he knew those voices. Getting up from his chair, he turned to glare at the Weasley twins. "What are you doing here, disturbing the countess?" he snapped.

"We're not disturbing her," replied Fred with an admirable show of innocence.

"She told us to come –" added George.

"– to help with research –"

"– on magic in twins."

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," said the contessa. "If you would please wait for a moment, I have a few things I would like to finish saying to Mr. Filch."

Her words made Filch blanch. She wouldn't say anything in front of these young villains, would she? She couldn't.

"Thank you for your help," she said to the caretaker. "If you would be so kind, I would appreciate your coming back here tomorrow at about ten o'clock. I would be most grateful."

"Ten o'clock, sure," he said with a nod and turned for the door. He paused only long enough to scowl at the shameless grins of his most despised students.

Once he was in the hall, one of the twins made a comment too low for him to hear, but the lady's reply was sharp. "That is enough," she said with an unfamiliar edge to her voice. "I will not have such things said about anyone."

Again, Filch could not hear the words spoken by the infernal young criminals.

"No," the contessa replied, more softly this time but still clearly enough to be heard in the hall, "for he is a child of the Goddess, as are we all."

* * *

Acknowledgement: As usual, thanks to Vaughn and Phoenix for beta reading and to Finrod the Faithful for advice. 


	4. Early Mornings

**Chapter 3: Early Mornings**

The weather had been miserable for nearly two weeks, and although early mornings were best spent in bed catching a little more sleep, Remus Lupin got up earlier than usual. At first, he attempted to rationalize it in his mind by saying he had a lot to do, he had best not be lazy, or he was hungry and needed an early breakfast. As he met his eyes in the mirror while shaving, he admitted that he was trying to trick himself with a lie. The truth was that he got up unusually early because he had discovered that Calyxa di Janarra did.

It had been the merest chance, really, that he had seen her from the window early one morning. He had gone to the loo while it was still mostly dark, and on the way back to the warm cocoon of the duvet on his bed, some movement outside had caught his attention. Who would be outside at such an hour in such weather? Confused, worried, he had paused to watch.

He had recognized her immediately although she was hidden by a heavy winter cloak and hood. No one else stood or moved the way she did. With her was the little girl. Remus had not had a good look at her, but from a distance, she looked quite like her mother.

At first, he had thought it strange that he saw Calyxa around the castle so infrequently until he concluded that she was deliberately avoiding him, something at which he knew she was skilled. A part of him thought it childish of her to resort to such tactics; however, he could not find it in his heart to blame her. Who was _he_ to blame her for being reluctant to speak with him? The last time they had spoken, he had parted with the knowledge that he would neither see her nor speak with her again. Not until Dumbledore had announced that she was coming, did he think he would. Even then, he had found it hard to imagine until she had stood in front of him smiling and looking into his eyes….

Forcing that memory down, he finished shaving and got dressed. It was none too soon, he saw, for as he was fastening the collar of his robes, he saw the witch leading her little girl by the hand as they moved away from the castle. Where did they go every morning and why? Moreover, did she – ?

He stopped to consider his own question. Did she what? Memories swirled in his mind, memories sweet and painful. There was no use in thinking of the past now, nothing could be gained. None of his inchoate questions took definite shape, and he was relieved. Sometimes such reflections could be dangerous.

The way down to the Great Hall seemed far longer than usual, but when he rounded the final corner, he saw Calyxa kneeling in front of the girl and wiping her nose gently with a handkerchief. The two of them were speaking in Italian, and the early morning tableau charmed him. As the lady began helping her daughter take off her cloak, he approached them. "Good morning, ladies," he greeted.

They both looked up at him. With the wet little cloak in her hands, Calyxa straightened up and smiled at him. Her face was pink from the cold, and he thought she looked lovely. He had always thought of her as very pretty, even when she had been a plain, shy, homesick girl of fifteen.

"Remus," she breathed, her eyes bright and expression warm – how could he have forgotten?

No words occurred to him. What could he have said? They stood smiling at each other, and the ridiculous thought occurred to him that he was glad he had shaved that morning. Standing there in shamefully ratty and threadbare robes, and he was glad he had shaved!

The child said something in Italian, and Calyxa looked down to her. "You must speak English, darling," she reminded with a smile. "Say good morning to Professor Lupin. Remus, this is my daughter, Amanita di Janarra."

The child, no more than four years old, reached to shake his hand. "Good morning," she said in perfect and unaccented English. She did look like her mother except her eyes were blue and she did not have the same distinctive eyebrows.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Amanita," he replied as he held out his hand and she grasped his index and middle fingers to shake. To Calyxa, he said, "She does not have her father's name?"

With a blink of astonishment, she squelched a smile but could not help the glint of amusement in her eyes. "She does not. We Janarra are matriarchal."

Of course. He had known that but had forgotten.

"Mamma, I would like _cornetto_ and chocolate."

"Yes, we are going to have breakfast right now."

"May I help you with your cloak?" Remus offered, moving around to take it from her before she had a chance to reply.

"Thank you." She allowed him to take it from her shoulders, and she smoothed down the front of her tailored, pressed robes before taking her daughter's hand. There were a handful of students already there, and Remus had the impression that they were frowning at him walking with the stylish, elegant contessa. What an incongruous sight!

"What took you outside on such a wet, chilly morning?" he asked.

"Nothing, really," she replied as she helped the little girl up the steps to the staff table. "We went to greet the morning. To say our morning prayer."

It was nothing remarkable, for her upbringing had been astonishingly religious for one from such a decadent place. As she leaned to help her daughter, the curve of her hip under the rich velvet of her robes distracted him, and he let his gaze admire her while she was unaware.

After the feast to welcome her, she had not worn her formal robes again, and the parade of luxurious robes that she wore enthralled the girls at the school. Remus appreciated the fashion show as well for a different reason. Although young and attractive, Calyxa was not the type of woman to incite the passionate interest of schoolboys; still, she had always had excellent posture as well as a lush figure. It was strange how simple things like standing up straight and walking with practiced grace could affect one's appearance, but she had often said that she had been taught to do so from her early childhood. _Always seems to be taking a deep breath_, Sirius had once said of her, and Remus smiled at the bittersweet memory. Her perfectly fitted and draped robes were neither low cut or tight; however, they flattered her. He knew he should not let his eyes rest on her in quite the way he did, but he was not the only one, for he had noticed that a few of the older boys were interested in the Italian witch's physique.

As he spread the two wet cloaks out over a couple of empty chairs, Calyxa helped Amanita into her seat. Remus took the place next to the little girl so that they could talk over her head. "Have you any children?" Calyxa asked once her daughter was happily munching on a sweet roll.

"No, no kids." He nearly poured her a cup of tea before he remembered that she drank coffee in the morning. "But you've certainly done well. A beautiful daughter and, of course, your book."

"Have you read it?" she asked, brightening.

"Of course. How could I not have? It was brilliant, but you don't need me to tell you that."

She smiled in reply and seemed to be thinking of something to say, but in the end, she did not say anything. The unspoken between them caused this coolness, he knew, but it could have been much worse. He was lucky she had not snubbed him at the very beginning. In fact, he had not expected her to greet him half as warmly as she had that first night, for no one would have criticized a woman in her position for cutting a penniless schoolteacher dead. It was only what he deserved.

"I had a bit of trouble with the concept of time not being constant," he went on.

"Everyone had trouble with that, I think," she agreed.

"My chocolate is too hot," said Amanita as she gingerly touched the little porcelain mug set before her.

"Allow me," Remus said, taking out his wand. With one light flick, he conjured a tiny snowman next to the mug. It took a deep breath and blew an icy breath at the hot chocolate.

Amanita watched openmouthed and clapped as the snowman bowed and disappeared. Turning with a giggle of delight to the wizard next to her, she said, "Do it again."

"Darling, you know that mealtimes are not a time for playing," chided Calyxa, but Remus thought she was looking at him with warmth and affection. "And you have not thanked Professor Lupin."

The little girl looked up at him with her wide blue eyes very serious. "Thank you, Professor."

"It was my pleasure," he assured her. How very much like Calyxa she was!

"Mamma says that I can see a man of snow here," she told him. "We have no snow at home."

"It's true that there's usually snow this far north. I expect you'll see some within the next month."

"Shall I see a man of snow, then?" asked the little girl hopefully before taking a bite of her roll.

"Snowman," corrected Calyxa.

Remus pretended to consider it. "I think you'll see at least one, if you're lucky. Maybe even a snowgirl."

Amanita blinked at him with a half chewed piece of roll hanging out of her mouth. "A snow _girl_?" she repeated slowly. "Really?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," he answered just as seriously.

"Darling, remember not to speak when you have food in your mouth, and drink your chocolate before it gets too cold," said Calyxa, but she was laughing and shaking her head at him.

Perhaps there was something to be gained in getting up early, he thought as a muzzy, contented feeling warmed him. The lady and her daughter had soon finished breakfast, and he was aware that she smiled when she said she would see him later. The entire day passed in a relaxed haze, almost as if he were slightly tipsy with wine. By the time he made it to dinner, he had decided that he had not slept enough the night before and should, therefore, go to bed a little early.

The meal was over and many of the students had left the hall before anything pierced his peaceful bubble. Although he did not know him personally, Remus recognized Lucius Malfoy the moment he entered the Hall. Following the older man with his eyes, Remus watched as he greeted Dumbledore and Snape and was then introduced to Calyxa.

"Come to make apologies for his son, no doubt," said Professor McGonagall, who was sitting beside him. "It wouldn't serve to offend her, for she's got highly placed friends and admirers at the Ministry."

"What happened?"

"Some kind of incident among the boys. Apparently, the contessa walked right into it unexpectedly and was hit by a stray hex from young Malfoy. There was some injury to her eye, but Poppy says she's fine."

"Her _eye_?" Concerned, Remus glanced over in time to see Calyxa extend her hand to Lucius Malfoy in an elegant gesture as if she expected him to bow and kiss her hand. Which is just what he did, Remus saw. Slick and slimy, he thought as Malfoy spoke to her and stroked her hand. Why did she not just pull her hand away? Because her back was to him, he could not judge her reaction, but she made no attempt to withdraw the hand, which Malfoy was fondling with both of his. Was she _flirting_ with the smarmy bastard?

Remus felt his heartbeat race at the thought and immediately suppressed the indecent thoughts that came into his mind. Malfoy was giving Calyxa his rapt attention and was still holding her hand. Was this how the unfortunate gossip started about her leaving her husband and child for the life of a wicked divorcée who collected hapless wizards like trophies? And what of the warm way she had gazed at him in the morning? Did she look at everyone that way? Was that sweet look of affection what was holding Malfoy's undivided attention? Was that what had started the talk about her? If so, then it was no wonder the papers wrote such sensational stories about her.

Disgusted, he said good night to Professor McGonagall and got up to go. It was his extraordinary stupidity, his voluntary myopia, that was wounding him, he knew. What right had he to look at a lady like her with admiration? Absurd, it was all absurd. Calyxa was far too refined and well-bred to indicate she had noticed, but he knew how low he had sunk.

With the rosy-hued veneer that had insulated him gone from the day, he knew he would not again get out of bed at the crack of dawn. The delicate promise of early morning was an illusion that had misled him before, and he was determined not to let it get the better of him again.

* * *

Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes for beta-reading and to Finrod the Faithful for "guy advice". 


	5. A Visit from Malfoy

**Chapter 4: A Visit from Malfoy**

After hearing that Draco Malfoy had injured the contessa, Severus Snape was not surprised that the boy's father came to Hogwarts. Although no longer a member of the school's Board of Governors, Lucius Malfoy was a powerful and influential man and would want to maintain good relations with someone as high-profile and well-connected as Contessa di Janarra.

It was certainly going to be interesting. First, there was Lucius Malfoy, proud, calculating, arrogant Lucius who could play the role of the dashing gentleman when he wanted. Lucius was an altogether intimidating man, but on the other hand, there was the scandalous contessa, Calyxa di Janarra. Severus had a vague recollection of her having been less annoying at school than other girls because she spoke so infrequently, and when she did, it was carefully and with consideration, but that had been years ago. Since then, she had gained a certain celebrity for her writings; however, the real notoriety had arisen after sordid rumors circulated about her divorce. Having grown up in the decadent Court of Venice only added to her disrepute, but these things were not what interested Severus.

From the very beginning, her work on how far the modern world had come from its roots in Ancient Magic had impressed Severus with its professionalism, its precision, its _simplicity_. The first article, an essay on the cyclical nature of time, had stunned him and many others with its elegance and concise brilliance. It could have been an anomaly, but the second article, on the role of intention and expectation in magic, had been equally well-received by the intelligentsia. After that, people were joking that her next article would be on Sexual Magic, for she had married Principe Borodin della Toscana, a reputed expert in that ancient type of magic. The third article, a long essay on the role of wands as amplifiers of magic, had shaken many people to the core, for she had hypothesized that it was possible to perform all magic without a wand. All magic. Two other articles followed, and then came _Mind Over Magic_.

He had actually gone to London to buy her book on the day it had been published and had sat up all night reading it. His classes the next day had been a series of mini disasters, so he had set it aside until the weekend where he had read it again twice while making copious notes. A whole day had passed as he drafted and rewrote a letter to her with observations and questions. He worded the letter in a cordial, professional tone, wondering if she would remember him. Eventually, however, he had tossed it on the fire. He kept remembering her dancing a waltz (or was it a polka?) with Black, now a murderer and the escaped convict that she was going to help apprehend. They had been an odd couple, the tall, arrogant Black and the wraithlike, little Calyxa, but that first night had been alive with Ancient Magic that still preoccupied Severus's mind.

He had also remembered her laughing with Lupin, singing and playing a lute as dragons sailed past them. In fact, when Dumbledore had first announced that she was to come to the school, Severus's first thoughts were of how friendly she used to be with Lupin and how entertaining it would be to witness his disgrace in her eyes. The werewolf had looked unsettled when he heard she was to come, and Severus had enjoyed his discomfort. His humiliating public disgrace had never occurred, of course, because she treated beggarly Lupin with the same gracious manner she used for everyone. The werewolf was ashamed, though, and the knowledge of it brought Severus an exquisite feeling of pleasure

As he introduced the contessa to Lucius, Severus observed without betraying his interest in the proceedings. She assessed Lucius Malfoy with a glance, and the serene, gracious lady of the last two weeks became the cool, sophisticated contessa so often depicted in the papers as possessing cynical elegance. She extended her hand to Lucius, who, without any hesitation, bowed and kissed it. "_Piacere di conoscerla_."

"It is a pleasure to know you as well," she replied with a perfectly appropriate and measured smile although she did not seem particularly impressed. "Such pretty Italian you speak, Mr. Malfoy." The very picture of the somewhat jaded lady with exquisite manners, Severus thought, amused and surprised at how easily she played the role.

"Lucius, please," he insisted in a rich, warm voice as he gently rubbed her hand with his thumb. "I hope you'll accept my apology for the behavior of my son. Of course, Draco knows very well that he should not do such things, especially when in the company of ladies; however, he is young, and in this case, I am afraid that youthful high jinks are to blame."

"I understand perfectly," she replied, holding his gaze with an enticing directness. "I have an elder brother who often tortured me with such boyish mischief when we were children."

"I can't say how distraught I was to learn you had been injured." All his attention was fixed on the contessa. "I set out the moment I heard what had happened. My dear lady, how can I apologize enough?"

"I am not injured, and I am terribly sorry that you felt it was necessary to make the trip here over such a trifle; however, I must say that it is a rare pleasure to have the opportunity to meet such a charming man." She raised one arched brow and gave him a fleeting little smile.

Severus wished he could tone out the insipid conversation. Polite banality was one thing, but this nauseating display was something else entirely. Apparently, nothing made a man feel as virile as a seemingly delicate, flirtatious woman, and Lucius was no exception. The provocative compliments and innuendo coursed back and forth with the lady seeming entirely at ease while Lucius basked in the increasingly sensuous exchange that Severus saw as a tiresome flirting match.

"You may not remember, but we have met before," Lucius fairly purred as he gazed down at her with his usual smug little smile. "I danced with you. It was the Reel of the Goblin's Gold, I believe."

"Danced with me?" replied the contessa in surprise. "Are you certain? For I do not often get the opportunity to dance, and I should have remembered meeting such a fine gentleman, especially if I danced with him."

"Perhaps you don't remember because it was several years ago," he went on, now rubbing her hand with both of his, "on Christmas Eve. After an unusual snowstorm. There was some unfortunate unpleasantness with your escort that evening, if I remember correctly."

As he watched, Severus saw her face pale visibly. She looked as if she were going to faint, and for an instant, he felt concerned and almost put out a hand to grasp her arm and steady her. Just as quickly, he cursed himself. The woman was about as helpless and vulnerable as a dragon, but she had some insidious ability to appear that way, to prey upon men's protective instincts. No one else seemed to have seen through her charade, which was not surprising, for she was very good at it.

"I had forgotten that," she admitted in a quiet little voice. "Forgive me. I only remember that night very vaguely, I am sorry to say. It was long ago."

"My dear lady, you look positively overcome," said Lucius in his most effective honeyed tones.

"You certainly could do with a chair and perhaps a glass of wine," Severus said with a tremor of impatience in his voice. "I have some Chateau Lafitte Rothschild on hand, if you'd like."

The incredulous look that Lucius shot him was priceless. Whereas the contessa treated everyone exactly the same, Lucius had always had a bit of a patronizing attitude towards those he considered inferiors, which was just about everyone, including Severus. Hearing the Potions master speak thus of a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine disconcerted Lucius in his carefully ordered world.

"How lovely," said the lady with a bit of a fond little glance at Severus. Although it was subtle, it was unsettling because he was not accustomed to fond glances from anyone, even practiced manipulators. Lucius's expression, however, changed to one of shock at the idea that perhaps the lady had an interest in the other man. A little smirk played around the corners of Severus's lips to see Lucius flustered, even for a second. This was certainly an interesting turn of events.

"I shall leave you to it, then," said Lucius in an effective attempt at gallantry, but Severus was amused to note that he seemed slightly irritated that the contessa was immune to his silken dalliance and had instead expressed a preference for a dour, unpleasant _schoolteacher_. With some extraordinary confidence that she had not always possessed, she dismissed Lucius with a glance. She merely bade him goodnight with a coy little smile that could mean anything before taking Severus's arm and going with him to his quarters.

Once they were settled in his sitting room, Severus served the wine he had bought when he had first learned that she was due to arrive. He had asked the advice of the elderly shop owner who had recommended the expensive bottle as being fit for royalty. The expense was a minor consideration compared with what he hoped to gain, for he had no doubt that an opportunity would arise when he could invite her to drink a glass with him and see if things had changed now that he was an adult with knowledge and skills he had not possessed as a boy. No, money had never held much appeal for Severus except as a means to an end. It was power and knowledge that he truly lusted after, two things that were, if not the same thing, closely related.

"I am not fooled by the role you have been playing," he finally told her.

Her response was slow and deliberate. "I would be surprised if you were."

"Pardon me if I'm not amused. I thought it would be enlightening to ask you a bit about your last article and discuss it, but such intellectual discourse would not be worth finding both Lucius and me listed as your latest prey in the newspapers after that performance."

"No," she said with no trace of amusement, and when he handed her a glass, he saw that she had grown serious. "I would not wish such publicity upon you or indeed upon anyone." A slight, ingenuous smile lit her face. "I had thought you had spoken to aid me."

"To aid you?" he repeated, uncomprehending, for she had certainly handled Lucius with extraordinary ease and had been in need of no aid from anyone.

Without speaking, she sat regarding him just long enough to border on discomfort before she spoke again. "Have you read my last article? I would be flattered to hear that you did."

He ignored the complimentary tenor of her words. "May I ask you," he began as he took a seat, "why you didn't have those three Squibs documented before publication? To ruin such an elegant experiment with such a juvenile mistake seems very ironic after so many triumphs."

Sitting very still, she regarded him silently for a moment. "The truth is that they were documented. I chose not to publish it."

He looked at her as if she were mad. "Why not?"

"Because the subjects wished to remain anonymous."

A disgusted sneer curled his lips. Although he had enormous professional respect for her, the sentimental nonsense had rendered her work useless, and for some inexplicable reason, he found it deeply offensive. "How comforting that three people can sleep easy knowing their secret is safe while the rest of the world is cheated out of real clinical research."

The sarcastic tone made her smile. "You never were one for empathy," she remarked. With the wineglass held in both of her hands, she rose and began to pace. She made five little steps towards the hearth and then turned to pace back to her chair. "Such people are delicate and must be encouraged with great care. Too heavy a hand will drive them into a protective shell, like a turtle." She turned again and took five little steps back towards the hearth.

"I don't understand. Either they have magic or they do not."

"No. Everything has magic. There is no duality in this." She waved one hand dismissively as she continued to pace. "Let me put it in analogous terms that may make the issue clearer. What if they had been men who were impotent and desperate for treatment? Should their names have been published if they did not wish it?"

For a second, the example shocked and discomfited him. What a thing to say. Her former husband was reputed to be a libertine. Had such ideas come from him? And was her reputation deserved? Lucius had obviously thought so. Severus eyed her as she paced, wondering how much of what the papers said was true. "What's the difference if they were cured?" he finally asked.

"The difference is that in a poor state of mind, they would not have found their cure." As she paced, she was frowning in concentration as her mind considered the topic. "The experiment would not have been successful. We are such complex creatures, after all. Each one is unique, and no one can successfully predict how a certain person will react to stimuli. Each subject, therefore, must be considered very carefully, not summed up with broad generalizations like a rat or a toad. Comfort and state of mind cannot be objectively evaluated; thus we must gauge them subjectively on a case by case basis."

"But you have proved nothing. Any charlatan could have written that article without documented proof."

"You are correct, of course, but I am no charlatan. No one would say such a thing of me. Furthermore, I have seen that it is true, that it fits in with the theory. That is the only thing that has ever mattered. I have published the results, now other people will try it, and other researchers will attempt to duplicate my results."

"Foolishness," he muttered. Because of her usual modest persona, it amazed him that she thought so much of herself. He knew other such intellectual snobs – he was one himself to a certain degree – it was just such an unattractive trait in a woman, even though it was not false pride on her part.

"I am sorry that you feel that way, for your good opinion does matter to me." With a regretful little smile, she returned to her chair before taking a sip of her wine. "Ah, what a treasure! Thank you for this, Severus. It was just what I needed."

He nodded in acknowledgement of her thanks. Now was his chance to bring up the subject he really wanted to discuss. "Do you remember, long ago, I once asked you what you saw when you looked at me?" he began.

Startled, she frowned at him. "Yes."

"Do you remember what you said?"

At first, she continued to frown at him, but then a little smile appeared on her face. "I believe I said you were 'soft and golden'."

He was horrified to feel the unaccustomed sensation of a slight blush heating his face. "Are you so self-centered that you assume all men are attempting to flirt with you?" he asked in a contemptuous tone.

"Of course not. I should not have been flippant when I knew you were being serious." Her genteel smile was apologetic, but the merry light in her eyes was not.

Taking a deep breath to soothe his irritation, he nodded once. Perhaps a bold statement would startle her. "The words you used were 'shards of glass'. Do you remember that?"

Her eyes widened. "They were." She was deadly serious now, pale and still as she had been as a girl, he was satisfied to see. "But it has always been my custom to speak in metaphor."

Eyes glittering, he regarded her with his brows drawn together in a frown. "Can you tell me what you see now?"

She frowned as well. "I am afraid that you are asking a question of which you do not really wish to know the answer."

A hint of a smile turned up the corner of his mouth. She had been a softhearted fool as a girl, and, perhaps under that polished exterior, she still was. "Indulge me, Calyxa."

Still she hesitated, looking worried, but only for a moment. "Very well." When she looked at him this time, she tilted her head a fraction to the left, and then her eyes softened, as if they were unfocused. Staring straight into her eyes, he attempted to see what she saw.

Her mind was strange – orderly, lovely, fluid complexity like the minds of some wizards from the Far East he had known. Similar, but not quite the same. He was able to perceive her current vision as some mist of swirling colors, both soft and brilliant. There was no attempt at evasion. Strange. He examined her memories of Lucius, whom she had found appalling. Who would have guessed she had disliked him after her conduct towards him? Then memories of Severus: she pitied him. And a memory of the werewolf speaking with her daughter…

"Razor blades, double-edged," she said, and the words startled him into blinking and sitting back in his chair. She was staring at him, wide-eyed, with a slight frown furrowing her brow. "They slice anyone who gets close, but they cut both ways. Sometimes it cuts only the scars, but it also slices you inside." When she had finished speaking, her eyes closed, and she pressed her palm against her forehead as if she had a headache.

The guarded look on his face became stiff, brittle and he said nothing.

She rubbed her forehead. "You should not have asked if it was not what you were prepared to hear. What is it that you really want to know?"

"I want to know how you can do such a thing."

"You asked me a similar thing once before, and my reply must be the same," she said, raising her head. "I am one of many and cannot reveal the secrets of my clan." A tiny drop of blood ran down from the inner corner of her left eye.

He set his glass down so hard that the expensive wine sloshed over his hand. Calyxa looked at him in surprise as he got to his feet. "Your eye. It must not have been healed properly."

She brought up her hand and brushed her fingertips under the eye. When she saw the red smear on her fingers, she did not react at all.

"I'll take you to hospital," he urged. Of course, she would assume he was being compassionate and that he cared about her well-being, which suited him. Keeping in her good favor would make it easier to discover the secrets of the Janarra.

"It is not necessary," she assured him as she rose, but he took a firm hold of her arm. "Severus, truly, I am fine."

"Do you expect me to let you go wandering around the castle at night with such an injury?" he asked, feeling annoyed with her, and she did not speak again. In silence, they made their way quickly to the hospital wing with her rushing to keep up with his longer strides, for he had a firm grip on her upper arm.

Once he had turned the out of breath contessa over to Madam Pomfrey with one lurid sentence questioning her medical knowledge, Severus went off to consider all that had occurred in the past hour. His question was answered but not to his satisfaction: he could not discern what kind of strange Italian magic she was using. Moreover, she had only had the current day's memories in her mind, an unusual circumstance for anyone. Had Dumbledore taught her something archaic?

A darker part of his mind also acknowledged that the wicked rumors could actually carry some truth. He allowed salacious thoughts to occupy his mind, but another provocative thought occurred to him: the possibility of having a woman whom Lucius could not.

Of course a witch like her was not meant for someone like him, so he put the thought out of his mind. Thus far, his plans had worked. The wine and his attempt at appearing warm and benevolent had paid off. Although he wasn't sure he wanted her pity, it was certainly a feeling that could be used to his advantage. Soft and golden indeed! How easily she revealed her weaknesses. He would play whatever game she favored in an attempt to gain access to her knowledge, for he had never had a problem with being patient when he had a specific goal in mind.

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Many thanks to Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes for beta reading. In addition, thanks very much to Finrod for telling me, "I don't think any man would say that." 


	6. The Lecture

Author's notes: A lot of what the contessa says and does is real although I have twisted most of it to suit my needs in the story. Memory Palaces are ancient mnemonic devices. Horace wrote of witches and a book of spells. _Losna_ is the Etruscan name for a lunar goddess still used by the Janarra clan. _Losna, aiutami_ Losna, help me.

Warning is for alcohol abuse (and a long, boring lecture).

**

* * *

Chapter 5: The Lecture**

A full minute passed as Calyxa stood motionless and unnoticed in the doorway of Minerva's classroom watching the intimidating old witch reading students' homework assignments. Always had she been a comfort, for under that brusque, no-nonsense manner, Minerva McGonagall had a good heart and generous soul. Just being in her presence soothed Calyxa; however, a difficult favor now needed to be asked. Drawing in a deep breath to bolster her courage, she moved into the room. The gentle rustle of her robes did not catch the professor's attention until she had neared the desk and found a seat.

"I hope I am not disturbing you, but I would like to ask for your help."

The older witch set down her quill. "My help? Why? Have the students been giving you any trouble?"

"No, not at all."

"Not even the Weasley boys?"

A tiny smile lightened Calyxa's face. Those twin boys reminded her of her brother, especially when he had been younger. From the beginning, though, she had been careful in her manner towards them, for she had noticed that one of them had a bit of a crush on her, and it would not do to encourage him. At least it was only one and not both. "Well, they are quite a lively pair, but they do cooperate most of the time."

"I'm astonished to hear it. Be sure to let me know if they don't."

"I shall." The younger lady drew in a breath like a senator about to make a speech. "Amanita goes to her father on the twenty-second of December. He will come here to collect her in the evening –"

"He'll come _here_?" asked Minerva in shock. "Not to the school!"

Calyxa studied her with a little frown, for Minerva McGonagall was not someone to give much credit to gossip columns. "I thought it would be acceptable. After all, the students will not be here. I cannot imagine one such as him in the village, but I shall arrange to meet him there if necessary."

The professor's thoughts showed clearly in the expression on her face. "Borodin della Toscana at Hogwarts?"

As always, having someone whom she respected thinking poorly of Borodin stunned Calyxa. On the other hand, his ancestry was certainly against him, and his ability to flay someone alive with his words had made him scores of enemies; moreover, he had endured the worst of the publicity when libelous stories in the newspapers branded them both as degenerates.

"Do you think I would have taken him as my husband if he were some kind of monster? The press has vilified him as a reprobate who beat me and engaged in unspeakable debaucheries, but the truth is only that we cannot live together because of our temperaments. I do not speak untruly. Minerva, he is the father of my child."

Minerva pursed her lips and nodded, turning over the situation in her mind. "Have you spoken of this with Albus?"

"Not yet," Calyxa admitted. "I shall, of course, ask him what he thinks."

"That would be best."

Now was the moment to ask her, so Calyxa took another deep, calming breath. "I would like to ask you to accompany me when I go to meet him. You are a formidable witch as well as a lady. Things are still difficult between the two of us, but he would not create an unpleasant scene if you were there. He has an unfortunate skill for insulting people when he is under stress, but he would not do such a thing to you."

"Em... of course I'll go with you." Minerva cleared her throat. "It is easily done even if unpleasant. Even if he insults me."

Calyxa smiled and sighed in relief. "I cannot say how grateful I shall be."

"In return, may I ask a favor of my own?"

"Certainly."

"The third and fourth years have been reading some of your writings and asking questions. Would you be inclined to come to one of my classes to answer some of their questions?"

Calyxa sat very still and looked at her with dismay. Answer questions in front of a class of students? "I should be delighted to help in any way," she replied.

"Filius will most probably want to bring his class along as well," continued the professor. "If so, it would be a tight squeeze in a classroom, but we shall use the Great Hall, if need be."

A rush of panic closed Calyxa's throat, and she clasped her hands together in her lap. Two deep breaths were necessary to regain her voice, and she wished she had something strong to drink. "I do not have any experience lecturing. Nor dealing with children of that age."

"No matter. We shall be there to keep them in line. It will be a good experience for the students, and I'm certain they'll enjoy the novelty."

* * *

The first snow of the season fell the night before Calyxa would speak to the students. When she rose in the predawn darkness, she smiled. How excited Amanita would be! In her dressing gown and slippers, she drew an armchair up to one of the windows and settled into the silence and the darkness. 

Once she was at ease, she entered the vast halls of her own mind. Carefully, she filed away the memories and emotions of the previous day in new places; like all Janarra, she had constructed a Memory Palace when she was a small child, just as little Amanita had already begun learning to do. When she had examined and properly placed the memories, she sat in absolute and profound emptiness.

After her period of meditation, she got up to bathe and dress for the day. The silent, dark morning before Amanita woke was a perfect time to relax in a tub of fragrant, hot water and allow her mind to rest. The delicate repetition of actions in her toilette – rubbing lotion into her skin, combing and plaiting her hair, shaping her fingernails, applying her perfume – were soothing and restful rituals. Bit by bit, each step eased her into her day.

As stood before her wardrobe, she debated between wearing dark blue brocade or apple green velvet robes. She preferred brocade, but the green would be very pretty on a cold and snowy day. Postponing the decision, she set out her under things. The first time she had come to Hogwarts, her mother had packed finely woven, soft woolen underdresses and stockings for her. In Italy, witches wore silk underdresses and stockings in the winter and cotton in the summer without any stockings, so the woolen ones had seemed very strange until she had discovered how cold and drafty the school was. Then she had been glad to have them. Now, she smiled and thought of her mother as she set aside dark blue brocade and drew apple green velvet robes over her woolen underdress.

By then, Amanita was already yawning and stirring. Instead of bundling her up to walk outside in the fresh snow, Calyxa helped her get washed and dressed, and they sat by an open window to greet the day and say their morning prayer. Afterwards, Amanita could speak of little else than playing outside.

When they had returned from breakfast, Signora Chalaza came to take charge of Amanita for the morning and offered to take the little girl out to play in the snow. As soon as they were gone, Calyxa fetched a bottle of wine and quickly drank two glasses. What dementia, what idiocy, had possessed her when she had agreed to this? "_Losna, aiutami_," she said aloud as she poured a third glass.

What had started out as a simple request of Minerva's had snowballed into a nightmare of mythical proportions. In addition to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, several other teachers had asked if they could bring their classes to hear her speak. _Probably to have a break from teaching more than to listen to me_. Then a few of her peers from the Ministry of Magic, having heard about her 'lecture' from their children or other relations who attended the school, had contacted Professor Dumbledore and asked if they might attend. _But I am only to answer questions_, she thought as she drank the third glass.

It was nearly nine o'clock in the morning, and she had drunk a half a bottle of wine in ten minutes. _Losna, help me_, she thought as she rubbed her hands over her face. _Help me to find my strength_. While not enough to make her drunk, she hoped that the wine would ease the burden of her ordeal.

With a deep sigh of resignation, she left the bottle and started for the Great Hall. Upon entering, she was shocked at how many people were gathered there to hear her speak, and she froze just inside the doorway. Taking a deep breath, she began to make her way up to the front of the Hall. As she passed the teachers on the right side of the room, she let her thoughts dwell on them instead of on the task ahead.

There was Filius with his students. As a schoolgirl, she had adored the gentle little wizard and had daydreamed that he was younger, much younger, so that she could marry him someday. Now, having actually been married and divorced and knowing quite a lot about men, she realized that he would not have been a good choice of husband for her, and she would have made a frightful wife for him. Even now, though, being near him made her feel peaceful and serene.

There was Severus, the opposite swing of the pendulum from Filius, keeping his students silent with the coldness of his glance. Some softness and vulnerability deep within him was well defended by scores of mechanisms that wounded anyone who got close. The familiar feeling of pity and affection washed over Calyxa as she looked at him. His mere presence caused her sharp pain that she had to take care to protect herself against, and she wondered how the poor man lived with himself. No wonder he was so lonely and miserable.

There was Sybill Trelawney, which surprised her, for although cordial to her face, the Divination teacher feared her and had already prophesized that she would lead a member of the staff and several underage students astray. Both Fred and George Weasley had consequently offered to be led astray, and she had found it necessary to speak gravely to them about inappropriate remarks.

There was Remus. She stopped walking and smiled when she saw him. Catching sight of her, he returned her smile and crossed the room to speak with her. Warm, he was, warm to her but trying to be cold and closed, although it was not working. _By the Goddess, he is beautiful_, she thought as he came over to her, and she felt exquisite sensations shimmering in every particle of her being. A deep, slow breath calmed her, but then he stopped in front of her. The sensations flooded her, both amorous and tender, and all her apprehension evaporated.

"Good morning," he said. "You looked a bit nervous when you first came in."

She laughed despite her best effort to resist. Should she say it was from the wine? Although three glasses of wine was not much for her, she imagined he would be surprised to hear she had drunk them so early in the morning. Should she tell him that he had that effect on her? Or would that be too flirtatious when she knew very well that he had no such interest in her? "I am not used to speaking in front of people, particularly in English."

"Wasn't it your intention to answer questions?" he asked as he turned to walk with her. "Isn't that why you wrote your book in the first place? And of course, the other articles?"

The thought of books, articles, and questions reminded her of what she was about to do. "Yes, of course, but I had thought that the written words were enough," she admitted with an involuntary tremor in her voice. "Or I had hoped."

A frown darkened his face, and he glanced at her with a worried expression. He was concerned about her, which filled her with a voluptuous sense of pleasure. "One of my students wants to ask a question about the nature of time. He's a bit shy and… well, it would be best to encourage him, I think. Shall I tell him to ask his question first?"

The gorgeous feeling of being near him shivered a little and was then still. "That would be lovely," she replied, struggling to contain her glowing happiness.

He smiled and reached to squeeze her hand. "Good luck," he told her, his warm, strong hand holding hers for a delicious moment as they gazed at each other. As he went back to his class, she clamped down hard on her emotions. Really, she had to concentrate on her subject and not let wine and tenderness affect her now! After all, he had made it crystal clear that there could never be anything between them but friendship.

There were Strom, Feakins, and Billings from the Department of Mysteries standing talking to Dumbledore. They would certainly be disappointed today with the simple questions and answers in her interplay with the students. If not that, then perhaps with her drunken and disjointed ramblings, she thought with a self-deprecating grimace. Then the sight of Dumbledore's dark red brocade robes distracted her for a moment. Such lovely, elegant robes! Such rich brocade! She was regretting wearing velvet now.

The distraction lasted only until they all shook hands with her and began the mindless small talk necessary at such events. She had great respect for Timothy Strom, a tall, white haired wizard of indeterminate years, but Colm Feakins irritated her with his cloying, glib manner. Farrar Billings, a tall, willowy, blond witch, was wearing fussy, formal robes of peacock blue and had her hair in a complicated upsweep. _Trying to emulate me_, mused Calyxa. _A bit much for a morning lecture, though_.

The three would be invited to stay for luncheon, no doubt. Thank the Goddess that Amanita would be there and would talk of nothing but snow. Nobody, not even Feakins, would be able to get in a word, she thought with a serene smile that did not reveal any of her agitated thoughts and tumultuous feelings.

Minerva stepped up to the podium and cleared her throat. "Attention. Attention, please." She had used a charm to amplify her voice and the Hall grew quiet. "Today, the Contessa di Janarra has kindly agreed to take time from her busy schedule to answer questions. Now, all of you have been reading some of her works and should have some interesting questions for her."

There was a polite smattering of applause as Calyxa approached her. "Can you do that for me?" she asked. "I am not accustomed to speaking to so large a group." The truth was that she was not used to speaking to a group at all.

Although she looked a bit surprised by the request, Minerva complied before going over to stand beside her students.

"Good morning." Calyxa began speaking slowly and clearly, hoping her amplified voice did not tremble. "As you are most probably aware, I was briefly a student here at the Hogwarts School, but that was for less than one year. I am Janarra, of course, but it is entirely possible that none of you know that name. There is an ancient alliance of three clans of witches: the Tanarra, Janarra, and Fanarra. We are Keepers of the Mysteries of Ancient Magic, the stellar, the lunar, and the earth mysteries. Thus it has been since before recorded time."

A hand shot into the air. The girl, Miss Granger, had not been permitted to participate in the research program because of her busy schedule, but she sometimes came to Calyxa's office to ask about Magical Theory. "The English translation of _Stregharia by the Numbers_ says that the Triad Clans are mentioned in the writings of Horace. Does it really go back that far?"

"Horace, yes," replied Calyxa, startled by the question. "The Roman poet. Yes of course." Her mind raced to retrieve the facts. "Quintus Horatius Flaccus. Horace. Well, I am no historian, but about two thousand years ago, he wrote of Italian witches and of their book of spells, which he called _Libros Carminum_. In fact, the oral tradition goes back far further, long before the founding of Rome, to the Etruscans. But that, perhaps, is a subject better left for a history lecture."

A tiny boy sitting with Remus's class raised his hand. "Ma'am, could you explain a little more about the _linear_ time and _cycle-call_ time?" The poor thing looked ready to die of fright and his voice shook as he tried to pronounce it correctly.

"Certainly. An excellent topic." She smiled at the little boy, but she was thinking how crafty Remus was, knowing that she would have to take her mind off her own worries in order to reassure the child. How dear he was! The sweetness of her feelings allowed her to relax despite the many eyes watching and the many ears listening. She had written extensively about the concept of time. Explaining the basics would not be too difficult. Withdrawing into the cerebral, analytical function of her mind, she accessed her Memory Palace for her academic ideas regarding the subject.

"Time differs in the perception of different cultures, and I believe that we Janarra and our cousins have a different worldview than your culture does. One of the basic differences is the way we see time. Time is measured in the modern world as linear, as always moving straight ahead second by second, minute by minute, day by day, year by year. All of this is misleading and these measurements really exist only in our minds.

"If you had no calendar and no clock, how would you determine the passage of time? You would notice the changes in the natural world. The movements of the earth and the change of sunlight turn the world from day into night. The movements of the moon through her aspects indicate the passage of months. The seasons cycle round upon themselves over and over with the passage of years. These are the true measures of time, not the precision of nanoseconds.

"The linear measure of time is necessary for modern life; however, it is a bit ridiculous how the rules have been convoluted in order to make them work. The rules for leap years alone are enough to boggle the mind. The result is quite serious, though. Modern magic depends on linear time, and the awkwardness of the measurements weakens everything we do. It is not so urgent with daily spells to clean or to organize, but the more powerful magic, which is part of the very fiber of the universe, needs the natural cycles of time in order to work correctly. With life, death, love, compassion, and wholeness, we cannot use linear measures."

Calyxa stopped. She was on the other side of the Hall. People told her that she paced when the ideas and words carried her away, and she sometimes caught herself doing it. Now, she had no recollection of pacing, but obviously, she had. Everyone was looking at her, which she had forgotten while she was speaking. Thank Losna for that!

Out of the raised hands, Minerva chose a tall girl over on the right. "What does duality mean?"

"Duality? Well, I am not skilled at giving definitions, and it is a word with different meanings in different fields. In the field of Magical Theory, duality is a belief in opposites. Duality is often a function of our minds. Take, for example, darkness and light. Our very definition of darkness depends on the existence of light. Yet what of one who is blind? There is no light for them, and, therefore, it is not a universal duality. Instead, it is a construct of our minds. As for magic, it is in the very fabric of our universe. There is no duality."

The students were frowning. They did not seem to understand.

"We cannot say that something does not have magic. All things have magic, you see. We just cannot always perceive it. Not yet."

They certainly did not like that answer. No, people generally liked things cut and dry: _this has magic, and that does not have magic_. The webs of the universe were complicated beyond human comprehension, which made them feel insignificant. Seizing these thoughts, Calyxa allowed herself a small, rueful smile. How condescending and supercilious her attitude was! Perhaps she had drunk too much? She had to be careful not to offend anyone.

"Ma'am?" A boy from Minerva's class was waving his hand. "What do you mean by 'limiting expectations'?"

"Limiting expectations. Yes. Well, it is an interesting concept similar to a self-fulfilling prophecy but more insidious." She looked around at them and searched for an example to make it clear. The idea came to her in a moment of clarity like Archimedes in his bath. "If we look at the familiar Hogwarts custom of students being sorted into the four houses, we see a useful way to separate small children into four different dormitories based on certain partially formed character traits. Unfortunately, the original has evolved into something unforeseen and often overlooked.

"Some people assign values or status to being sorted into a certain house. Disturbingly, some parents express displeasure with their children for the house into which they were sorted. More than that, this innocuous tool has become an enormous influence on shaping the characters and lives of those who pass through it. Why is it that the first question asked upon meeting a Hogwarts graduate is 'What house were you?'

"One might as well have been sorted alphabetically or by eye color, such is the arbitrary nature of this blunt tool that lumps together four quarters of the populace. Moreover, the simple act of dividing young children into different dormitories has repercussions on the rest of their lives. Instead of the complex, unique beings that we are, Hogwarts students are forever judged, evaluated, and limited by their houses. People say, 'Oh, he is a Ravenclaw,' or 'He is certainly a Slytherin,' to explain someone's behavior. It is a deeply ingrained prejudice that influences one's character. Everything in our environment affects the people we become, and the expectation to become like the perceived character of one's House is a very strong influence on a young person's life."

This answer was even less popular than the previous one. Such blistering criticism of the House system offended some of the staff as a personal affront. _Perhaps I really did drink too much_, she mused, searching for a way to soften her criticism.

"It is an example meant to show you how extensively our minds can prejudice us," she continued. "Also, it shows us how dramatically our characters can be affected by our own expectations and by the expectations of the society in which we live. The formation of part of our personalities, even."

The next question came from one of Filius's students. "What is the synergistic exponent?"

"Ah, this is something we have been working on here at Hogwarts," she enthused. "The concept of synergy is an important one in magic. It means that the effect of one person's magic does not merely double when added to the magic of another. No, instead the effect increases exponentially. It is not a new concept, but it is rarely considered.

"Take, for example, two of the student volunteers, the Messieurs Weasley. In the Bubble Destruction Experiment, both of these wizards were very adept. The average number of bubbles destroyed by students is twelve whereas each Mr. Weasley destroyed seventeen. Now, one would expect that their combined total, if they destroyed the bubbles together, would be approximately thirty-four. In fact, when united in mind and intent, the total was more than two hundred and ninety."

"Two hundred and ninety-two," called Fred.

"Yes, thank you," Calyxa laughed with everyone else. "The result was not a doubling of seventeen, it was seventeen raised to the second power, approximately two hundred and eighty-nine. Now, for us, destroying bubbles is a silly pastime, but it is only a simple experiment to highlight an important principle. There were only two wizards working together. Imagine a hundred. How many bubbles could be destroyed by a hundred witches working together with one mind? If the average is twelve, then twelve to the one hundred power, a quantity unimaginably large, a number so large that we do not have words to express it except in scientific notation – eight times ten to the one hundred and seven power. That is an eight with one hundred and seven zeroes after it."

"That's a lot of bubbles," called George.

Everyone laughed. "Far more than our imaginations can conceive," Calyxa continued. "It is not an easy thing to work together with one hundred others, but it is possible. When we Janarra all meet and concentrate on one thing, the result is electrifying, as you can imagine."

There was a loud buzzing of conversation as the students whispered together.

"We heard you knew Professor Snape at school," called a girl from way over on the right without raising her hand.

"That is true." She flashed a smile at the aloof Potions master. "He was just as immensely brilliant then as he is now and actually once assisted me in making a very complex potion." Severus seemed indifferent, but she could tell that he was quite pleased. The low buzz of students whispering behind their hands filled the room once again.

"Were you really engaged to Sirius Black?" a boy called from the back.

Calyxa's flesh grew cold and she stopped breathing as the Hall fell into a sepulchral silence. She recalled Lucius Malfoy's words to her – could it have been his son who asked the question? The Hall was too large for her to determine who had asked it. "Do you mean the escaped criminal?" she said in an amused voice that carried clearly to everyone in the sudden silence of the Hall. "I think that the Prince Borodin would be enough for anyone."

Laughter and a smattering of applause, she noted in relief even as she held her coy smile. Minerva came back to the podium to thank her and there was a heartier round of applause before the students were dismissed.

It was over, and she had endured it. With a huge sigh of relief, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to relax. The worst was over, so the tedious small talk would be welcome. The usual serene smile appeared on her face and she turned to meet her colleagues.

* * *

Acknowledgements: As usual, thanks to Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes for comments and corrections. 


	7. The Prince and the Werewolf

**Chapter 6: The Prince and the Werewolf**

Knowing that he was going to be meeting Calyxa's ex-husband, Remus wore his best robes, which were not really too bad when compared to the rest of his wardrobe. "Not that it matters," he sighed as he made his way down to meet the two witches outside the Great Hall. He had seen enough photos of elegant Prince Borodin della Toscana in the newspaper to know that he was going to look like a scarecrow next to him.

When Minerva had asked him to accompany her and Calyxa to meet the prince, he had wanted to say no, but Minerva had said that Calyxa was terribly anxious about coming face-to-face with her ex, so he had agreed against his better judgment. It cost nothing to abase himself, and he could certainly afford that in an effort to ease Calyxa's distress.

The truth was that he was still thinking about her performance at her lecture two weeks ago. Her pacing while completely absorbed in her thoughts had always entertained him, but that morning had surpassed anything he had seen before. At first, she had been quiet and unsure of herself, looking like a frightened bird, but then that familiar frown of concentration had settled on her features, and she had begun to pace back and forth with sharp turns, seeing nothing, aware of nothing except the inscrutable workings of her mind. It had taken him back many years to see her that way, and he had felt like a boy again, almost. How cool and imperious she became at such moments, conceited and autocratic, immune to criticism or even disagreement. There were no half measures with her. Such confidence – arrogance – had been a sweet thing when she had been a timid girl; now, he wasn't sure what to think of it.

When he came into the corridor where Minerva had told him to meet, Calyxa was already there, pacing and twisting her hands, and she looked disconcerted when she saw him. "Minerva asked me to join you," he explained when he saw her expression.

"Yes, well…" She bit her lip. "Forgive me, Remus. I cannot pretend out of politeness. I would rather you did not come."

He blinked. "Why… of course, if you would be uncomfortable."

"It has nothing to do with you. It is… I am afraid. You see, he will say words to hurt you." She did not look directly at him. "I am sorry."

"You need not feel that way," he assured her, "but I understand perfectly. I'm sure that Minerva is capable of handing one mannerless lout without even uttering an incantation."

Reluctantly, she smiled. "I am certain she is."

"Good luck, then, and don't worry. I'll see you later or tomorrow."

As he was turning away, she placed a hand on his arm. "Wait. Remus."

He turned back, heart racing at the feel of her touch. Their eyes met, and he held her gaze, wondering what was distressing her. As usual, her lovely, warm look of admiration made him feel a bit giddy and unbalanced as if he were standing on something unsteady.

She seemed to feel something as well, for she blushed and let her hand drop to her side. "I think I might feel better if you came as well." She spoke slowly, looking strained, serious.

Searching her face, he nodded. "Then I'll come, of course," he replied as Minerva joined them.

"There you are, Remus," she said crisply. "Has he told you that I asked him to come? Well, in such a situation, one can never tell what's going to happen, and it's always best to have a reliable man around to intimidate the other."

"I am flattered that you think me reliable, but I hardly think I qualify as _intimidating_," he said. "You should have brought Severus."

Minerva smiled at that, but Calyxa did not even acknowledge the joke. "I must sit down and discuss with Borodin. I am not certain how long it will take, but I had some wine set up for us. I hope you will not mind waiting."

"Sitting and drinking wine?" Remus mused in mock-seriousness. "I think I can manage."

She smiled and cast another soft look at him. _That look will be my undoing if I'm not careful_, he thought as he smiled in return. _I don't think she's realized yet how easy it would be to add me to her collection_. Not that she would want him, who had nothing to offer a normal witch, never mind such a lady as her.

"Mrs. Chalaza will bring Amanita afterwards. She will be too excited to sit still and wait while the adults talk, you see."

"It's fine," said Minerva. "Are you ready? He's waiting."

"Yes." Calyxa closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she had become another person. Elegant, formal, straight, and looking rather tall for one so petite, she glided to the doors and entered the Great Hall looking every inch the noblewoman in her rich robes. This was not Calyxa, this was The Contessa, he recognized.

Her former husband was waiting in the middle of the Hall, where a few small tables were set up near the fireplace. The prince was a tall, exquisitely dressed man with very long, curly dark hair. He bowed as she approached, his eyes glittering and a sardonic smile on his lips.

The air was heavy and seemed almost to shimmer between them like a heat mirage. For a second, Remus imagined that if he and Minerva had not been there, they would fall upon each other in a passionate frenzy. The idea intrigued and excited him. _Wouldn't mind seeing that_, he thought with a wicked grin lurking on his mouth. _Though Minerva certainly wouldn't approve_.

"Good evening, Borodin," she said with a little smile, and Remus was astonished that she appeared perfectly at ease when less than a minute before, she had been tense and nervous.

"Ciao, Calyxa." The man leaned to kiss her upon both cheeks in that funny, formal way the Italians employed in such circumstances.

"Minerva, Remus, may I present Prince Borodin of Tuscany."

The prince nodded to them with a charming smile. The earlier image of Calyxa with him had evaporated as Remus forced his mind to accept that she had loved this wizard, married him, and borne his child. He had to admit that the prince was very handsome and felt an acute stab of jealousy.

"This is Professor McGonagall."

Minerva nodded austerely; however, Prince Borodin caught one of her hands, bowed elegantly, and brushed her knuckles with his lips. "An honor to know you, dear lady."

_No wonder they write such lascivious stories about him_, Remus mused as Minerva blinked and smiled. _I bet he has witches throwing themselves at him and husbands itching to poke him in the eye. _

"And this is Professor Lupin."

Remus inclined his head, but the prince froze in mid-bow and glanced at Calyxa. With a grimace, his eyes – Amanita's eyes – traveled over Remus, taking in his worn robes, prematurely graying hair, and thin frame. "By Losna, girl, you cannot seriously have left me for _this_."

Shocked and stung, Remus froze. Of all the insults that had received in his life (and there had been many), this one cut easily and deeply. It was as if the other man had struck him, and he stood there stupidly, feeling ashamed and wretched to be so humiliated in front of Calyxa.

"It offends my very nature that someone I loved could have sunk so very low," she replied very coolly, meeting the prince's eyes without any indication of either fear or anger. "You are no gentleman, Borodin, and have made me ashamed of you."

_The lovely minx! _Remus began to breathe again and felt a huge wave of affection for her sweep over him. Once again, he felt in control of himself.

A malignant smile spread across the prince's face. "Well, I hope you have more luck handling this hellion than I had, Professor," he said to Remus, but his eyes were locked with Calyxa's. Merlin! The electricity between the two of them seemed to crackle! "You do not look quite up to the task, if you do not mind me observing."

_Now, _this_ I can deal with_, Remus knew. "Not at all," he replied cheerfully, "and I haven't run into any problems yet."

Minerva made a little sound in her throat like a cough and Calyxa sighed. "Have you finished with the insults? Or do you wish to say something appalling to Professor McGonagall now?"

"Of course not."

The contessa nodded and turned to her companions. "I hope you will excuse us. It will be easier for us to speak in Italian."

"Take your time," said Minerva. She and Remus settled at a nearby table where some glasses and wine bottles had been set. "What a charming fellow," she muttered.

"It really is a terrible shame that someone like her ended up with such a boor," he said, shaking his head.

"Nice enough to look at, I suppose," Minerva mused, looking over the prince, who was pouring a glass of wine for Calyxa, with a critical eye. "Sometimes foreign wizards have a decidedly effeminate way of dressing. Oh, well, perhaps he was better behaved when she first agreed to marry him."

"Undoubtedly." Remus followed the prince's chivalrous example and poured a glass for her and then for himself.

"It's amazing at how good she is at playing the role of the elegant countess when she was dreading this," said Minerva. "Like a spy, almost."

"Perhaps the anticipation was what was frightening her, and actually seeing him made her realize she was being a bit silly."

This seemed to surprise her, and she looked at him with a frown. After thinking for a minute, she said, "If memory serves me, Calyxa was _your_ girlfriend, wasn't she? Sixth year?"

A heated flush rose in his face and neck. Minerva must have realized that she had struck a chord. "Not exactly."

"We all knew about her and Sirius, of course. It was impossible not to. But it was you that she asked for when she got word of her mother, not him. And that was quite a kiss she gave you before she left."

Now he could even feel his ears growing hot. "I try not to think too much of those days," he replied in a regretful tone, hoping to deflect her questions. "With all that's happened. Being here. Sometimes, I come upon young Harry in the corridor and expect to see Sirius there next to him."

Her expression darkened, and her brows drew together in a frown. "Yes, I can understand that. This must be hardest on you."

"Indeed." He took a sip of his drink. "I feel somewhat odd, wondering if he'd kill me if I got in his way."

"No sense in having such morbid thoughts," she said somewhat harshly. "Just keep in mind what you'll do if you do run across him."

"Stun him if I can, kill him if I have to," he muttered, then took another drink. "I wonder if he'd kill her. She might be able to detect him, but I doubt she could even hit him with a Feather Pillow Hex."

The conversation was becoming more depressing as it went, and Minerva endeavored to change the subject. "She never was one for quick thinking. I suppose it's a side-effect of deep thinking. But enough of that now. We've been worried about how far behind your fifth and seventh years are after the last two years. Do you think they'll be ready for their exams?"

It was the perfect subject, for there was much to be said about the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students' preparations after two years of sub par instruction. They talked for a good long while, perhaps an hour, before little Amanita's voice echoed in the Hall.

"_Papà_!" Some message must have been sent to the Signora Chalaza, for she had entered the Hall with Amanita. The little one wore a tiny, formal Stregharian robe of dark gray brocade, for she was Janarra and would be the next contessa. Remus wondered if Prince Borodin resented his diminished role in the whole thing; after all, he had no heir from this union.

Amanita pulled her hand free and ran to her father. A smile of pure love and joy transformed the prince's face as he leaned down to scoop up the child in his arms. She hugged her father's neck tightly, exclaiming very excitedly in Italian. It was a heartwarming sight, but a deep heartache grieved Remus, for he would never know what it was like to hold his own child in his arms.

Then he glanced at Calyxa and froze. The expression of raw anguish on her face shocked him. She looked as if someone was tearing the flesh from her bones. After a moment, she was able to conceal the pain with her usual serene mask.

_The poor thing_, he thought as Signora Chalaza prepared the child to depart. How difficult it must be for Calyxa to have her marriage break up and have to share custody of her child. No one else was looking at her as she drained a glass of wine and poured herself another. He didn't blame her. Now, she had to watch her ex-husband take their daughter off, past the dementors…

"Wait a minute," said Remus, going over to Borodin. "Prince? Sir?" From his pocket, Remus took a half a bar of chocolate and gave it to the other man. "Give some of this to the little girl after you pass the dementors. She'll need it."

With a frown, Borodin looked at the carefully wrapped chocolate in his hand and back at Remus.

"It's only chocolate, the remedy."

Borodin's mouth curved into a small smile. "It appears I have misjudged you, Professor," he said far more gently than he had spoken earlier.

"Not at all," replied Remus, feeling uncomfortable as Borodin studied him. "Give it to her as soon as you are past. She should be fine."

"Thank you," the prince finally said, slipping the chocolate into his pocket. He gazed at Remus for another moment and said something in Italian to Calyxa, who shook her head at him and rolled her eyes as if he were a misbehaving child. With a raffish grin, Borodin then spoke to his daughter, who went to embrace her mother and bid her farewell.

At the same time, Minerva leaned to speak quietly in Remus's ear. "Be sure to escort Calyxa back to her rooms. I must see them out."

"Certainly." A little ripple of excitement ran through him. At last he would be alone with her, and she already seemed a bit tipsy with the wine.

"And be sure to check that there's nothing left to remind her of the child." She looked at him meaningfully. "Stray toys, clothes, and the like."

"Of course," he assured her as Prince Borodin led the little girl by the hand out of the Hall. "_Ciao, mammina_," called Amanita before saying something else in Italian. Calyxa laughed lightly and raised her voice to reply in a warm tone, but she did not fool Remus.

Minerva went with them, and poor Calyxa stood watching after them for a minute before turning back to the table and taking up her glass. "I am sorry," she said. "I knew he would be rude. But you were marvelous."

"_You_ were brilliant," he said. "We'd have never known you were so apprehensive."

After taking a long drink of wine, she let out another sigh. "I cannot express how grateful I am for the two of you."

"Think nothing of it." He reached for the bottle to pour her some more. "Though I wished at first that he'd give us the excuse to hit him with a particularly nasty hex."

A little sob of laughter escaped her. He averted his eyes and poured himself another glass as she wiped her tears. "Cheers, then," she said, raising her glass to him. "To some peace and quiet without little ones and hundreds of students."

"It will be a nice break for a change," he said as he took up his own glass to return her toast. When he set down his empty glass, he felt a bit drunk and decided that neither one of them should be allowed to drink any more. Here was his perfect opportunity to be alone with her, and he did not want her getting ill or falling asleep. "Come, Calyxa. You look exhausted."

She rubbed her eyes with the fingers of one hand and managed a wan smile. "We got very little sleep last night."

It made sense, for the Solstice celebration must have lasted well into the night. "Let me play the role of gallant gentleman now that I haven't got any well-dressed competition." He offered her his arm, and she laughed and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

She was swaying a bit as he led her through the quiet corridors to her quarters. Once inside, he lit the candles and made the rounds as promised, checking that all reminders of Amanita were gone. The sitting room was clean and neat, so he checked the bedrooms. The house-elves had set the fire, and everything was cozy and warm already, so he cast one glance for traces of toys or clothes. Perhaps the little girl's bedroom should have been sealed off? He closed the door between the two rooms before returning to Calyxa.

"Everything is safe and secure," he said in an amused voice as he went back into the sitting room. She stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, frowning as she gazed into the fire. It was a familiar gesture with her, and it made him smile. "You still play?" he asked, picking up a lute from the side table.

"Yes. Amanita likes to watch such games."

_Great_, he thought, putting the lute back. _Just what I'm supposed to be keeping her mind off of. _

"Remus," she said, not looking at him. "Thank you for coming. I am glad you were there. Minerva was right."

"It really was nothing," he replied, but something made him pause. Something here was not right – _she_ was not right. She was certainly not all right, she was very far from being all right, and Minerva had noticed whereas he had not. Was he drunk as well? He felt rather stupid and churlish for not realizing how truly agonizing this whole evening had been for her. It must have been how expertly she had played her part that had fooled him, but now he could see that she was wounded.

"Calyxa," he said, going over to her and putting his arm round her shoulders in a sort of clumsy embrace. "There now. Let's sit down." He maneuvered her to the sofa and settled down next to her, his arm around her. "I'd say you needed a drink, but I think we've both had more than enough." It made her laugh a little, and he thought, _That was a good start_. "I have no doubt you can hold your wine, but you've had an awful lot."

"It was just enough."

Giving her shoulders a squeeze, he wondered what he should say and decided to stick with the practical. "Well, then… how about a chat? About why you actually married that fellow?" Now that he was here and holding her, he did not care what she spoke about as long as she made no move away from him.

The contessa closed her eyes and sighed. And then, she leaned her head against his shoulder. "He is not always as he was tonight."

Holding her like this stirred up a forgotten possessive instinct. This close to the full moon he should have anticipated it. _Mine_, insisted the wolf inside him. "I should hope not," he remarked as evenly as possible.

She gave a little chuckle. "Ah, Remus," she sighed.

He could tell that she was weeping and concern overruled the baser instincts. He drew out a clean handkerchief and handed it to her. "Tell me what happened."

"Sixteen years happened," she sobbed. "Or is it seventeen?"

"Calyxa," he soothed as gently as he could, squeezing her shoulders again. "With all the horrors we've seen, I think we need to be friends." There was a sniffle, and he remained quiet for a minute or two. "Tell me what happened when you went home. I know about your mother. But, what happened to you?"

She dabbed at her eyes. "It was a terrible time. She was very ill, dying, when I returned home. With her passing, it left me as countess. There I was, sixteen and utterly clueless. My father tried to be my advisor, as did the wise crones of my clan. But it was not the same."

"I can imagine," he said.

"At that time, you may remember, many men were asking my parents to court me – that medieval custom we discussed – but my father refused them all. Borodin, who was not too much older, asked if he could write to me after the requisite period of mourning, which is one year. And so, a year after my mother died, he began to write to me.

"It was a formal correspondence at first. I had gone on with my studies and even did some work at Muggle institutions. At that time, there were some girls who still wrote to me from my days here. Jillian – do you remember her? I even got a few letters from Sirius."

"You did?"

"Yes, though I think those were more meant to torment his mother than to communicate with me."

He could not help chuckling at the thought, bittersweet and pain-filled as it was.

"Yes, it was all so different then," she sighed. "I had… I had hoped that you would write to me. Even after that one letter."

Remus stopped breathing. "I wish I had."

There was a long, painful silence. There was nothing to be said, no accusations, explanations, or reparations. Nothing could change what had happened all those years ago.

"Well, time passed and Borodin and I continued our correspondence. We became friends and eventually lovers though that was quite a while later."

"So, he was a different sort of man in those days?"

"Despite what happened tonight, he is a prince and a gentleman. My family approved of him, and I came to care about him and love him. He was very attractive as well."

"With a good scent," he teased although there was a bit of a lump in his throat.

"Yes, of course. _Potente Losna_, I was a naughty girl in those days!"

They laughed a little together, and Remus tightened his arm. Sitting like this, he could smell her scent and the delicate perfume she wore. It was a heady experience for him.

"Well," she sighed, twisting his handkerchief in both hands. "It was a fairly happy marriage at first. I was studying, learning, and he was very generous. He _is_ very generous, I should say. That has not changed. Of course, I was a perfect princess for him, playing the role that society demanded. I think that was what he loved most about me, the way I complimented him. He thought that my studies were some adorable pastime and encouraged it, endured whatever I wanted to do, as long as I was his perfect little consort. When I look back now, I think I was like a doll that he liked to show off."

"He never knew you, then."

"Perhaps not, but he was exceedingly happy with my behavior. And then, I had the book published." She paused and shook her head. "At first, he thought it was the most adorable thing I had ever done. He claimed to have read it, of course. I think he thought it was about casting girlish Italian love spells and decorating a lady's hair with butterflies' wings."

Remus snorted.

"Yes, I think that now." Putting one hand over her mouth, she yawned. "Excuse me. For so many years, no one would answer my questions, and I could find nothing anywhere to answer them for me, so I went about seeking the answers for myself, mostly in the elements and in nature and among wizards and non-magical philosophies."

Remus thought about the implications. "The proud husband of the pretty doll suddenly has a world-renowned philosopher on his hands."

"It was worse than that," she sighed and rubbed her eyes. "_I_ became more sought after than _him_, and _he_ became second to _me_." She shook her head. "I never imagined it because the book did not seem very important to me, you see. It was a simple set of straightforward essays just answering some questions that had plagued me for a while. The only reason I wrote it was because I did not want any other students to have to go through the chore of finding the answers for themselves."

The absurdity of her statement made him laugh though he had no doubt that she was being truthful. Nevertheless, her modesty and seeming ignorance of her own extraordinary brilliance amused him greatly. "I'm sorry for laughing, but it's just too hard to imagine anyone, especially yourself, thinking of your book as a students' indexed guide to the role of one's mind in magic."

"But it is exactly what I thought," she yawned.

"I know – that's what makes it so endearingly funny."

"Well, Borodin disagreed. Fine gentleman though he is, he can be childish about some things. He thought it was a foul betrayal on my part. To _upstage_ him. He accused me of doing it purposely to make him look foolish. All I could think was that I had hurt him. Done something horribly wrong."

"It's not true." Remus brought his other arm around and hugged her firmly. "He never loved you, never knew you. Any real man would have been delighted in your triumph. If you had married anyone else, someone like me or Sirius or Sonnagh or – or – or even someone like Severus, then it would have been different. Someone who would have wanted you to excel, would have celebrated your achievements and encouraged them instead of belittling them." He paused and drew in a breath as he pushed down his tangled and wine-soaked emotions. "Is this why you haven't written another book yet?"

"Another book?" she asked, yawning and shifting to nestle more comfortably against him. "No, I am done with writing books."

Involuntarily, Remus felt terrible anger and raw grief at the edge of his consciousness. This close to the full moon, the wolf within him was in danger of being violently roused. No more books? It had been the dream of her life. The delightful feel of her snuggling against him offset some of his fury. Slowly, gently, he began to stroke her hair. What to say next? He felt like he had to know. Would it be wrong to ask her to talk about it? "He treated you badly? Spoke to you cruelly? In front of others?"

She paused before she answered, "Yes. All that and more. But I gave back as much grief as I took. It was not one-sided, that I must admit."

He gritted his teeth as impotent rage coursed through him. Thinking of that tall wizard he had just met, the next question seemed almost obscene, but he had read the sensationalist stories in several publications of their high-profile divorce. His mind tortured him with ideas too hideous to even contemplate. "Did he hurt you? Hit you? Force himself on you?" The last question he forced out with a little growl.

"No, nothing like that," she assured him. "He is truly a good man, Remus, I promise you. We just did not suit each other."

A stab of jealousy flared. _Mine_, he thought as he held her and inhaled her familiar scent. Still gently stroking her hair and holding her against him, he allowed the violent emotions to reach a crest and then to die down. _Mine_.

"You cannot imagine that I would endure such treatment from anyone."

"No, but I feared it."

Their words were at an end. Sitting there in the murky candlelight, he held her alongside him and slowly petted her hair. How long passed, he did not know, but the wine and the exhausting emotions eventually took their toll, and Calyxa fell asleep. It was a lovely feeling to sit there and hold her, to feel her long breaths, to imagine he was protecting her. The wolf was slumbering as well, but Remus knew he was there, and the familiar possessiveness felt good to him.

Eventually, he made himself move. It took no effort to pick her up – she was a petite witch, nothing to her at all – but she stirred and shifted as he lifted her. "Remus?" she murmured, her arms coming up to hold onto him.

"Don't worry, my intentions are honorable," he quipped as he got a better grip on her and started to carry her to the other room.

She laughed and nuzzled his neck a little.

He stopped walking and breathing. _Ohhh, that feels good_. "You'd better not do that," he warned in a tight voice before continuing.

"Forgive me. You smell very nice," she said against his neck.

As soon as he reached the bed, he set her down and sat for a moment. Sitting against the pillows, she placed her hands on either side of his face. "You are still the most beautiful man I have ever met," she said with a sad little smile.

Remus could not remember the last time a woman had looked at him in this way or spoken to him with such endearment. How easy it would be to stay the night and live out his schoolboy fantasies. It had been a long, long time since he had enjoyed anything more than his hand, and Calyxa di Janarra, the wicked, amoral contessa who collected and discarded wizards at her whim, was looking at him with her molten brown eyes. How easy it would be to kiss her and lie down with her in the fragrant candlelight.

No. He knew her too well and knew this was no seduction, no invitation, just the uncensored fondness of someone exhausted, miserable, drunk, and very alone. Never in his life had he taken advantage of a vulnerable woman, and he certainly wasn't going to start now.

"Thank you," he replied with as much good-natured amusement as he could muster under the circumstances. "Now, I am going to have to insist that you get some sleep." She did not protest, so he pulled the thick duvet over her, shoes and all, for he did not trust himself to remove so much as a hairpin that she was wearing. Even though, the wolf and man wrestled for an instant, and he leaned to kiss her. For a fraction of a second, he intended to kiss her hard upon the mouth and to lie atop her, pressing her down into the soft bed with his body. The human part of him won, however, and he merely kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmured and put out the candles before he went to his own quarters.

* * *

Thank you to beta readers Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes. Special thanks to Finrod the Faithful for the very necessary "guy's eye view". 


	8. An Escort

**Chapter 7: An Escort**

There was little that intimidated Severus Snape; having been a Death Eater had rendered life's challenges quite ordinary. Now, however, faced with the task of inviting a lady to attend a social event with him, he found the burden an arduous one. _It's not a date_, he thought viciously as anxiety shortened his breath and made the palms of his hands clammy. _I'll just suggest that it's more convenient to go together_.

No matter what he told himself, though, he still felt low, base, inferior… like a youngster again at his first dance. He remembered hanging around by himself, too afraid to ask anyone to dance and finally getting his courage up, only to have the girl look at him in disgust as she refused him.

Of course, Calyxa di Janarra was incapable of looking at anyone in such a way. On the other hand, she would look at him with pity. Was it worse to evoke disgust or pity in a woman? He hated to be pitied; it made him feel as if the other person saw him as weak. At least people could feel respect and fear along with disgust. Not so with pity

Still, her pity was her weakness, and it was a place to start. Having not seen her all day, Severus was forced to go to her quarters and knock on the door, for he needed to speak with her today. Everything seemed to be conspiring against him to make this as difficult as possible.

"Come in," she called, and he opened the door to enter. From her seat on the sofa, Calyxa set down a book on the side table and threw off a little blanket covering her legs. "Good afternoon, Severus," she said as she rose and pulled on a dressing gown over her white night dress. "How lovely to see you. Do sit down."

"No, I shall trouble you only for a moment," he remarked as he came into the room. To him, it felt oppressive. How could she stand the room being so stuffy and overheated? "I trust you are not ill." In her nightclothes and with her hair unbound, she looked soft and somewhat pretty. Had she always had that much hair? He could not clearly remember, but he thought that she had usually worn it plaited as a schoolgirl. Usually. Not always.

"Not at all." She returned to the sofa. "I am missing Amanita a bit."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said although he really thought she was being foolishly sentimental. Didn't all parents celebrate any free moment from their children? "Professor Dumbledore has informed us that you will be away again tomorrow evening."

"Yes. I have had to refuse all social invitations since I came here, but the headmaster thinks that my absence for one night will not put the students in danger. There are so few of them left in the castle, after all."

There was no need to say anything further. Severus knew that wily old Dumbledore had somehow coerced both her and Lupin into coming to the school for one reason alone: to catch Black. While Severus was quite sure that her way of detecting people was ingenious, he also doubted she would be of any use if she came face to face with her old boyfriend. Lupin, on the other hand, was almost certainly helping Black. How else could he have got into Hogwarts? Dumbledore was foolish to trust him.

"I, too, am going to the Malfoys," he informed her. "I thought you might not wish to travel all that way alone, so I have come to offer myself as an escort."

Her eyes widened, and she looked at him with surprise. "Escort?" she repeated slowly.

The uncertain expression on her face stung him. Of course, an upper class lady would never appear in public with someone as low as him. Obviously, she was trying to think of something kind to say, some way to refuse without hurting him. Like he was a boy again, he felt the pain and humiliation of rejection.

What right had he to ask to be her escort? It was almost the same as a date, and greasy little Snivellus shouldn't even be speaking to Black's princess, never mind asking her out. How pathetic he was to think that he could even get near her orbit. Of course she would rather go alone than with him, an awkward outcast so far beneath her that he hardly existed in her eyes. She was accustomed to being in the company of gentlemen, not some working class nobody like him.

"I realize that you probably have chosen one of your admirers to escort you, but I wasn't sure," he added with what remained of his dignity. "It wouldn't do to let you go all that way alone when we could so easily have gone together."

"You honor me," she answered with a look so frank that he nearly believed it. "You must realize, however, that appearing together in such a way, innocent though it is, would mark you indelibly as my latest plaything."

The answer startled him not only because it sounded plausible but also because he did believe it. "Not at one of the Malfoys' events," he replied.

"If you are willing to take that chance, then I should be delighted to have such a distinguished escort," she replied with a smile. "But I give you fair warning that I will not be ready on time."

"No?" He was confused. "How can you possibly know a day ahead of time?"

"Your expertise is your potions and spells," she said with a ladylike smile on her lips and devilish brilliance in her eyes. "And mine is making an entrance."

* * *

Freshly bathed and attired in his best dress robes, Severus made his way to the Great Hall to wait for the shameless diva who had told him that she was planning on arriving at least an hour late. Impunctuality irritated him and gave him ammunition with which to attack others; nevertheless, he had resolved to play whatever game was necessary to gain Calyxa's trust. She was entirely too unguarded and trusting, and he would discover the secrets of the Janarra in the end. The first step was to charm and entertain her tonight. The task daunted him, for he was not skilled at charming or entertaining anyone, especially not ladies. His resolve was set, though, and he gritted his teeth as he strode towards the Hall. He was ready to play her silly games, having seen Lucius and others do it often enough.

There was another delicious thought that lurked in his mind. Just arriving with her would certainly set tongues wagging, and they were arriving late! A vicious, unpleasant smile spread over his face as he imagined how surprised Lucius would be. Severus could read him so easily: he was interested in the wicked contessa because of her rumored expertise in the erotic arts. Although he did not know if the rumors were true, Severus thought they must be. After all, she had been married to Borodin della Toscana for years. Although she was not the type of witch he found attractive, his mind turned over the possibility of getting her to show him Sexual Magic. An interesting idea indeed, he thought with a sly smile.

When he entered the Hall, he stopped just inside the doors, his mood plummeting. Waiting there by the fire were Professors McGonagall and Sprout, young Miss Granger, and, of all people, Professor Trelawney. The rooster in the henhouse was Lupin, Severus thought with a sneer as he approached them. The mangy werewolf had been drooling over Calyxa for weeks now. A few days ago, she had kissed old Dumbledore quickly under the mistletoe. Everyone had laughed, but not Lupin. He had looked hungry, carnivorous, like a wolf looking up at a plump little bird out of reach high above him in a tree.

"What sort of gathering is this?" Severus asked rather silkily. Now he had to make conversation while he waited for the ridiculous witch who chose to arrive _an hour_ late.

"We are waiting to see Calyxa, of course," said Minerva in her usual businesslike way. It was hard to imagine her interested in fashion, but women never failed to surprise him in their conformity to inane pursuits.

"I've heard her dress robes are one-of-a-kind creations," added Pomona.

"And you, Lupin?" He arched an eyebrow at the werewolf. "Are you here to see her robes?" Had Granger not been there, he would have added something stronger.

"I'm as curious as anyone to see how she looks," the werewolf answered mildly.

The answer did nothing to alleviate Severus's peevish mood. That dratted Granger should have been in her dorm, not sitting here with the adults. Lupin seemed almost to lick his lips in anticipation as he awaited a sight of his unattainable prey. And Sybill was vibrating with some low humming sound. Was she going to start spouting dire warnings of disaster as soon as Calyxa appeared? "I suppose I should thank you all for keeping vigil with me while I wait for the prima donna to make an appearance," he said aloud.

"I bet it's worth the wait," said Pomona with a smile.

"She certainly operates by different rules and expectations than we do," said Lupin. "Think of her essay on the liquid and inconstant nature of time."

"We are merely traveling together for the sake of convenience," Severus answered. "I am under no obligation of any kind to endure a selfish witch who is over an hour late." Why was he defending himself anyway? This was none of their affair. Why had he even brought it up? He wished very hard for Calyxa to arrive. He was not looking forward to this evening, but all he wanted right now was to be gone from here.

"You can always go on and let her make her own way," said Minerva. "She is perfectly capable."

"I'm sure she's capable of a lot more than she appears to be," snapped Severus.

"Severus, if you're going to escort a lady, you might keep in mind that your role is to make everything easy and pleasant for her," said Lupin.

"Obviously learned from the numerous times you have escorted ladies to formal events," he answered with venom in his voice, but he saw Granger's eyes widen, and he refrained from saying anything else.

Lupin caught sight of something behind Severus and his mouth fell open. By the predatory expression on the werewolf's face, Severus knew that Calyxa had entered the Hall. Without hurrying, he turned to her.

The little Italian witch's appearance stunned him. Wearing a simple garment of white with a fine layer of golden spider's web lace over it, she sparkled even in the subdued candlelight, and cynical though he was, the effect was not lost on him. The sleek brown hair was woven into some complicated coiffure, and she looked very attractive, but it was unlike anything he, or any of them, had ever seen her wear. The fabric was very closely fitted, and Severus could not keep his eyes from sliding over her. The low cut décolletage revealed her ample white bosom, and the tailoring emphasized a tiny waist and rounded hips. From a delicate necklace, a large diamond pendant in the shape of a full moon dangled just below her collarbone. An hour late, they would certainly stand out upon arrival, and he realized with mixed feelings that he had to walk into the ballroom full of black-clad witches with _that_.

As he and Lupin stood there ogling her like cretins, the women saved the day. In that invariable female way, they all closed around her, chattering about robes and hair and how lovely she looked. Except for Sybill, of course, who stood watching as if in some haze and hardly moved.

"Um, Contessa?" began young Hermione Granger. "Did you choose your robes to match Professor Snape's?" The girl looked nervous and a bit overwhelmed being among so many teachers. "Well, not to _match_. I mean _contrast_."

"In this instance, I had chosen these robes long ago," Calyxa admitted, "but when Professor Snape offered to escort me, I suspected that he would wear black." A nostalgic smile touched her lips. "When I was married, my husband used to tell me what he was wearing without being asked, so I could choose my attire based on how well we would look together. But Borodin is Italian, and such things matter to him."

_What a ridiculous idea!_ Severus thought with a disgusted curl of his lip. _A wizard having his wife match her robes to his for formal affairs? _

"Beware," moaned Sybill from where she still stood several paces away. "I see tragedy, I see heartache… one will be led astray, yes… most violently, I fear."

"I suppose that means you, Severus," said Minerva with a scornful glance at Sybill.

"And there is little to be gained by trying to avoid fate," said Calyxa with a thoughtful expression. "What do you say, Severus? Are you up to being led astray? Not violently, though. How about being led _gently_ astray?"

"Calyxa!" Minerva said sharply with a deep frown of disapproval, but Pomona was chuckling. Granger did not know whether to laugh or pretend not to understand, and the werewolf looked as if he had been stung. Or perhaps pecked by the bird he could not reach.

Severus saw the opportunity to leap into the game and annoy Lupin at the same time. "I shall follow wherever you lead, be it gentle or violent," he answered and was rewarded with a smile from Calyxa, but he most enjoyed the look of consternation on the werewolf's face.

* * *

Once they had handed off their cloaks, Calyxa paused and regarded him with a little frown. "If you wish to slip in unnoticed, now is the time to do so."

"And miss my moment in the spotlight?" he asked. "By no means. Lead on, and I'll follow."

Her frown deepened as she studied him. After a few seconds, she sighed. "You are an immensely brave man."

The praise flattered him, but it also annoyed him that she could sense his apprehension so easily. There was no time to dwell on it, though, for the music had just ended after a merry jig, and she placed her hand on his arm. At the last moment, she drew in a breath and concentrated, and then a thousand tiny stars shimmered in her hair, on the golden lace web of her robes, and within the lunar pendant of diamonds upon her bosom. "A little trick I learned from my cousins, the Tanarra," she explained.

As the doors opened and they swept into the ballroom, he kept a slight sneer on his face and occupied his mind with thoughts. Of course, the Tanarra maintained the Mysteries of the Stars, which were ancient, powerful sources of magic; however, such remote things were of little use to wizards.

The initial silence gave way to thunderous murmurings and whisperings. _They are looking at her and not me_, Severus repeated in his mind. He risked a glance at her and was again struck. Her robes and hair glittered with starlight; yet she was round, sensual, and potent. _Like a full moon_, he thought as Lucius came striding across the room to greet them.

"My dear Contessa," he said as he bowed to kiss her hand, "how delightful to see you again."

"I am honored to have been invited," she replied with a smile. "I have certainly been working hard and needed a diversion such as this."

"I'm flattered that you chose our humble party for your diversion," he purred. Then he nodded civilly to the man beside her. "Good to see you, Severus."

"Lucius."

Smiling his best, he turned his attention back to his striking guest. "Contessa, would you permit me to introduce my wife to you?"

"Nothing would give me more pleasure," Calyxa replied.

_I don't think anyone believes that_, Severus thought as he followed them over to Narcissa, who was pretending to be unaware of the commotion but was fooling no one. Severus wondered what would happen when the two witches met. In these rarified social circles, females traded rapier barbs while wearing diamond-hard smiles.

As they approached, he could see that Narcissa wore a composed little smile that was a bit too brittle. Less than three minutes had passed since they entered the room and Lucius's behavior had as good as marked the contessa as his intended paramour. The hostess seemed to have used that time to cement an aloof, patrician expression on her face.

"Contessa, allow me to present my wife, Narcissa," said Lucius smoothly. "My dear, this is the Contessa di Janarra."

"I am very happy to know you, Mrs. Malfoy," said Calyxa. "May I compliment you on your son? He is a fine young man, very handsome."

Narcissa's face lit up with a smile. "Thank you. Yes, Draco has spoken of how kind and generous you have been to him," she replied. "Of course, he was terribly disappointed not to be able to participate in your research project, but he is far too busy with his studies and Quidditch."

Of course, it was untrue: no Slytherin had applied to aid her research. Ignoring the bald-faced lie, Severus wondered how Calyxa had known the one thing to say to ease the tensions between them, to get Narcissa to warm up to her. It was certainly a woman's trick to be able to perceive such a thing in a split second. The two witches exchanged a few remarks that were inconsequential in nature yet significant in tone. They were getting along.

"This is not the first time that the contessa has been here," Lucius said to his wife with a knowing smile. "You may remember meeting her at this very ball years ago." He then addressed Calyxa. "You were a princess then, though, were you not?"

"While you were still married to Prince Borodin?" asked Narcissa with a frown as she tried to recall the event.

"Hardly. She came with…" He stopped and cleared his throat. "She was with your cousin, and there was that… _altercation_."

Realization dawned on Narcissa and her eyes grew rounder. "You were hurt – bleeding. And you knocked down my sister."

"Bellatrix?" asked Severus in shock. He had never heard this story.

"You both have remarkable memories," said Calyxa with a smile and shaking her head in disbelief. "I cannot remember what happened last year, let alone a dozen or more years ago. But I was a horrible, ugly child, you may recall."

"No, no," protested Narcissa, but she was staring at their guest with a frown. "Not at all."

At that moment, her partner for the next dance came to claim her, and she was forced to excuse herself. Once his wife had gone, Lucius smiled at Calyxa, caressing her with his gaze. "May I have the pleasure of this dance?" he requested in succulent deep tones that annoyed Severus.

Another woman would have melted at such a moment, but Severus had seen that she disliked Lucius and was, therefore, unsurprised when she returned his smile without seeming to be affected. "You honor me too greatly," she answered. "I think I must dance first with my escort." She turned to smile at Severus.

"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed there, for Severus doesn't dance," replied Lucius with good humor in his voice.

"Nonsense," said Calyxa. "I have danced with him myself."

When he saw a little line of a frown between Lucius's brows, Severus had to struggle to keep from smiling. This was just too perfect an opportunity to let pass. "Let me beg off for this one, my dear," he said as an apology to her. "I'm sure Lucius will be an adequate replacement for me." Something needed to be done. Lucius would probably kiss her were their places reversed. Making a decision in the span of two heartbeats, Severus placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "Forgive me."

Lucius's mouth fell open, but Severus ignored him. Calyxa looked as if she were enjoying their little exchange; however, her gaze locked with his, and he could see her concern. To her credit, her smile did not falter a fraction. She did not understand why he had done something so out of character, but she was going along with him, playing along.

"Very well, I shall forgive you this once for disappointing me," she teased, but her eyes were full of questions. "Well, Lucius, now I am yours," she stated, turning to their host. "At least for the space of the next dance."

Whatever reply he made, Severus had already turned to go to get himself a drink. After the torturous waiting for her to make an appearance, things certainly had started going his way.

A few people stopped to chat with him. There were new, strange looks on their faces, though. He knew they were all curious about his relationship with the wicked contessa, but he said nothing and made the expected remarks about the usual topics.

Finally, someone asked how he knew her. "Ah, yes, she is an old friend from before her marriage," he remarked with a shrug. "We are now able to resume our _acquaintance_." The slight emphasis on the last word left a titillating question in the air as to the nature of that acquaintance.

As the hours passed, Calyxa had no dearth of dance partners, so he had no duties to perform as escort. She was always visible swirling about the dance floor with one wizard or another; therefore, he saw when Lucius danced with her a second time. He also saw him waltzing her off to one of the ballroom's shadowy alcoves or passages. He could not tell which from this far away.

An amused little smirk played upon his lips as he made up his mind to go over there and _interrupt_ whatever Lucius had in mind. Severus took two flutes of champagne as he edged around the floor. In fact, he was sure that Calyxa could easily handle his advances. On the other hand, Lucius did not know that. The thought of disturbing his orchestrated efforts at seduction amused Severus, so he made his way to the other side of the room and followed them.

As he approached the opaque shadows where they had disappeared from his view, he could hear their voices. "– what is between you and Severus," Lucius was saying in a hypnotic, low voice.

"A lady cannot speak of such things to a gentleman," she replied in an equally quiet voice, but she sounded amused. "You must ask him. He is your friend, is he not?"

"Well, yes, but…" Lucius sighed. "There are certain rules that men follow in such situations. The 'honor among thieves', so to speak."

"There is _no_ honor among thieves," she replied with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Severus took the opportunity to approach them. In the darkness of the alcove, he could see that Lucius was holding her against him much closer than was proper. "Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?" he asked as he held out a glass to her.

Lucius let go of her and spun to face him, but unsurprised Calyxa must have heard his approach. "Immensely, Severus. I am so glad you persuaded me to come. Thank you," she added as she accepted the glass. "Dancing makes one so thirsty."

"I'm afraid I failed to bring a third glass," Severus said to Lucius, who had almost immediately regained his composure.

"That is of no consequence," he remarked lightly. Turning to Calyxa, he said, "Thank you for the dance, Contessa. I shall look forward to another before the night is out."

"You flatter me," she replied with a smile. "I am honored, sir."

"Then if you will excuse me?" Lucius bowed to her, nodded to Severus, and left the two of them alone together.

When he was gone, Calyxa exhaled in relief. "Thank you," she said.

Severus merely nodded at her gratitude. "I don't think Lucius has ever gone so long without any hint of success," he remarked as he led her back out to the dance floor. "Has he grown at all impatient?"

"Not yet," she replied as they strolled back towards the refreshment tables. "I shall have to tell him that my tastes do not run to married men."

"And if he were not married?" he asked without thinking.

She blinked in surprise and turned to look at him. "My tastes do not run to brutes as well, but I think I best not tell him that."

"Ah, yes, no brutes," he nodded slowly. "What about Black?"

"He was a bully, not a brute. Any matter, we were little more than children playing it as a game."

"Well, then, how _do_ your tastes run?"

She laughed a little, softly, and studied him with a mischievous brightness in her eyes. "Severus, would it not be easier to confide in me and tell me who it is whom you are trying to make jealous?"

His eyes widened. Where had she got _that_ idea?

"I could be quite useful in such an endeavor, you know." She handed him her nearly empty glass. "I do have some experience in these things." As she spoke, she reached up with both hands to straighten his collar.

It was a gesture of familiarity, subtle and passively possessive, a red flag of warning to other women: something a woman would do for her husband or lover. In a way, it irritated him to have her fussing over him, but it also felt strangely comforting, as if he belonged to someone. He had been alone for a long time, a situation he preferred, but _belonging_ to someone felt rather nice for that unguarded, unprepared moment.

When he did not reply, she sighed and started walking again. "I suppose I am horribly rude to say such a thing. I had no right. Forgive me. And – my tastes? How do they run, you ask? I think it is not a secret that I prefer gentle, kind men."

"Gentle gentlemen?" He set their glasses down on one of the tables.

She laughed. "Something like that." Looking around the ballroom, she made a little grimace. "You know, I would not be at all surprised if everyone here thought I was leading you astray. Perhaps not violently, though."

At first, he was tempted to make a little sound of disgust; however, he stopped to consider what use he could make of this moment. Should he flirt with her? That certainly had not done Lucius any good. Maybe he should try something earnest – _you may lead me astray any time you wish_. He did snort in disgust at that line. It was something that he would expect the odious Weasley twins to say to her.

What to say? He glanced around the room. By the number of people looking at them and talking behind their hands, she was certainly correct. He wanted to gain her trust and annoy Lucius but not have her think he had any serious interest in her. What could he say?

"Is she looking?" she asked.

Did she really think there was a witch whom he was trying to make jealous? It was a strange thought but also a useful one. It was also true in a way, for he was trying to make Lucius jealous. His lips twitched at the thought. Imagine telling Calyxa that!

"You owe me a dance." She clasped his hand and led him out into the center of the dance floor.

For a few seconds, a rush of fear jolted him – dance in the middle of the room where everyone would see? The music was soft and slow, though, and the other couples were merely swaying together. _Lucius is going to turn green after this_, he thought with a vicious sense of pleasure.

He did not have to do anything except follow her lead. She guided his arm about her waist, she fitted herself comfortably against him – really, it had been too long since he had held a woman this way – and she indicated that he should move with her as she swayed to the music. Well, Sybill had been partially right. He was being led astray although not at all violently.

Calyxa rested her head against his shoulder. "Is she watching?" she whispered.

What should he say? He did not mind lying, but he had a feeling that she would be able to tell if he did. Casting his eyes here and there, he could see that everyone was watching them. He tightened his arms around her and allowed himself a little smile when he saw both Lucius and Narcissa watching. The only thing he regretted was that Lupin was not there to see it.

* * *

Thanks to the stellar beta-readers, Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes. Special thanks to Finrod the Faithful for the "guy's eye view". 


	9. Quiet Evenings

**Chapter 8: Quiet Evenings**

The fire felt good, Remus thought as he debated whether he should have a cup of tea or go to bed early. It had been a few days since his transformation, which had most unfortunately fallen on Christmas, but the damp, cold weather made him achier than usual. On the other hand, the students wouldn't be back for another week, and he could sleep as late as he liked in the morning.

He had just decided to have a cup and read another chapter of his book when someone knocked. Ordinarily, he would have expected Poppy Pomfrey to check in on him, but she had gone away for the Christmas holidays. A terrible fear gripped him. Could they have found Sirius? Could he have hurt someone, or worse?

He hurried to open the door and was astonished to find Calyxa standing there looking uncertain. "Calyxa," he said in surprise and pleasure. He had not spoken to her since their long, inebriated talk several nights ago, and he had not seen her since she had gone to the ball. She had occupied his thoughts almost constantly, though, thoughts alternating between the image of her in the shimmering gold of the luscious, low cut dress robes and the memory of her smiling and telling him he was beautiful...

"Good evening," she said. "I am sorry to disturb you."

"You couldn't possibly disturb me," he interrupted, giving her a warm smile. In soft blue robes and with her hair hanging down her back, she looked exceptionally young and pretty to him. "I was just about to have a cup of tea. I hope you'll join me."

She blinked in surprise before a small smile touched her lips. "That would be lovely."

He stepped back to allow her to enter and then closed the door. "Have a seat by the fire. It's a good night for the house, as my mother used to say."

"It most definitely is." She chose one of the big wing chairs.

As he fetched the kettle and clean cups, he watched her settle comfortably. Since the students and her daughter had gone, she had been wearing more casual robes and leaving her hair loose, which reminded him of their schooldays. For a second, he regretted the mismatched teacups and saucers before thinking that she would be the last person to look down on him for such a thing. He would just have to ensure that she got the one that wasn't chipped. He took out a packet of dainty biscuits that he kept for just such an occasion and set a few of them on a clean plate.

"I haven't seen you since the ball," he said as he prepared the tea. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Very much," she answered, looking very cozy where she had sunk into the soft cushions of his wing chair. "You know I love to dance."

"Did you manage to get Severus to dance with you?" he asked with a grin.

"Well, he did actually dance once," she informed him. "Which reminds me, do you know if he has a lady of his own?"

Remus stopped what he was doing and stared at her. She was interested in _Severus_? "Lady?" he repeated slowly. "You mean a girlfriend?"

"Yes, that is what I meant. I could not think of some word in English to speak of adults. In Italian, we just say _la sua donna_."

"I have no idea. I didn't think he was quite your type," he added, doing his best to achieve a light banter as he poured the tea.

"What? No – Remus!" She laughed and shook her head at him. "Not for me. It would take a far better woman than I am to make him happy."

Relief flooded him in a rush of warmth. "I suspect you could make any man happy," he remarked as he took the plate and cup to her and set them down on the table beside her chair.

She did not reply, and when he glanced at her, she was frowning at him. She seemed sad, but he also thought she looked a bit angry as if she were thinking _that is a hell of a thing for you to say to me_. Which it was, he realized, at least from her point of view.

"I haven't seen him show an interest in any woman since I've been here," he went on as he fetched his own cup and sat down in the chair across from her so that he was near the fire and could look at her. "Not that he'd confide in me."

"I believe he is involved with someone," she said very seriously. "He spent very much time at the ball trying to make her jealous."

"Really?" He stared at her in shock, for it was hard to believe. Severus trying to make a woman jealous? "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It was heartbreaking to witness. You know how... awkward he can be. I just wanted to help him, but when I mentioned it, he was silent."

"He is terribly proud," Remus remarked, but he was still trying to conceive of the idea.

"Yes, which made it worse for the poor man! Like a teenager, almost." As she spoke, Calyxa slipped off her shoes and drew her legs under the skirts of her robe to make herself more comfortable. "I had no opportunity to see her, but she obviously saw us. When we returned to Hogwarts, he thanked me in a subdued manner, almost as if he were shy. That was the only mention he made of it, but he was obviously very pleased."

"It's too bad you didn't get a look at her." Remus could not suppress a small grin as he watched her settle deeper into the chair. In her rich robes, sitting curled in the faded wing chair with his mismatched teacup and saucer in her hands, she was not incongruous in the shabby surroundings, but she seemed comfortable, as if she belonged here. "I'd be interested in what kind of a woman could get him to take the time and effort to make her jealous."

She smiled at him with that wicked glint in her eyes. "What terrible gossips we are, you and I."

"You're the one who brought it up," he accused with a laugh. "Although I have to admit, I'm guilty as charged," he added playfully. It was just as easy as ever to talk to her. The years and all that had happened mattered not at all.

"I do have something rather important about which to speak with you," she said, "and I trust you to keep it private."

"Of course," he replied, growing serious.

"I have a private student for you," she began slowly. "One who must be taught in secret without anyone else at the castle knowing what is happening. I would like you to teach him to use magic."

"I don't understand," he admitted.

Before speaking again, her eyes searched his. "It is Mr. Filch. He has been participating in the Squib program. It has been hard going, for he gets discouraged very easily. I think it may motivate him if he begins lessons with a real teacher. It will be a signal that he really is progressing, you see."

The request took him completely by surprise. "Wouldn't Minerva or Filius be more appropriate?"

"I think not," she said. "The man is ashamed of what he is. He has lived a difficult life because of the way Squibs are perceived. When I mentioned a teacher, he became terribly distraught, for he does not want anyone to know how desperate he is. I persuaded him that you could be trusted, that you would understand and be sympathetic."

Her words pierced him and struck a deep chord. _Ashamed of what he is. A difficult life. Does not want anyone to know_.

"I'm flattered," he said. "Humbled. Of course I'll teach him. Is he showing any ability?"

"A little," she said. "It goes slowly with him, for he is so very anxious. I would like to ask you to begin sometime in the next month or so."

"Then I won't expect too much too fast," he said, smiling at her.

"No." She smiled back with that look of admiration that he found so irresistible. "And praise every little hint of progress. I think you are well aware of how to motivate such students."

Yes, she certainly knew that well enough. Sitting in the warmth and comfort of the fire and the easy companionship, it was easy to let all the years melt away and forget that she was far out of his class. _You are still the most beautiful man I have ever me_t, she had said to him, and those words often echoed in his mind and tugged at his heart. Still.

"I remember that toy monkey of yours that we practiced hexing."

"Oh, yes!" she laughed. "Scimmia."

"That was the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

"No!" she declared with a gasp. "Scimmia is very pretty, very cute. Amanita keeps her even now."

"You still have it?" he asked in surprise, for they had repeatedly abused the little doll when they were students.

"Yes. Well, she has taken her with her, of course, but she loves her. Her favorite is an elephant doll, but she loves our Scimmia."

He poured himself some more tea. "I remember that little toy bird, a little falcon, which was your favorite. You wouldn't let me use it."

"Yes! That is Cacciala. I still have her as well." She gave him a guilty smile. "That one I did not give to Amanita."

"That one was okay, but I can't believe you still have that monkey. It was frightful," he teased. "I'm surprised the little girl doesn't suffer terrible nightmares after playing with it."

"She is too pretty, that Scimmia," disagreed Calyxa while giving him a humorous look of disapproval. "Did I ever tell you how she came to me?"

"I don't think so. Don't tell me it was your mother's," he added with a chuckle, thinking that this evening was somehow filled with Ancient Magic easing the difficult past between them.

"No, not at all," she laughed. "You see, I was a bit of a sickly child, but I still managed to fight rather violently with my brother. On one occasion, I was hurt, and my parents had to summon a Healer. I was so well-behaved and made no complaint, so the Healer instructed my parents to buy me a toy. Any toy that I wanted."

"You must have been very good." His eyes caressed her.

"I only remember it very vaguely," she admitted. "Well, they took me to the most famous toymakers in Venice. The sales clerk showed me beautiful dolls with porcelain faces and hands and formal robes and hats of velvet and silk. I saw this sweet-faced monkey with the long arms and fell in love with her."

"I had no idea." He caught her gaze. "But for such a pretty girl, I thought it should have been a prettier doll."

She blushed and looked at him almost like a flattered schoolgirl. "I must admit, I worried what you thought of me. All those childish toys! One of the other girls kept a bear doll on her bed, but the others thought I was silly."

"The bird suited you," he said, thinking back of the homesick young witch he had known and her little toys. "It was pretty. They all suited you. Just not the monkey."

In reply, she put a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn. "Oh! Excuse me. I am afraid it is time for me to go."

He hid his disappointment. "If you are tired, I'll walk you back to your rooms."

"I am not the only one who is tired," she said as she rose from her seat and slipped her feet into her shoes. "And there is no need for you to walk with me."

He stood as well. "My mother taught me to always be sure to see a lady home," he said, knowing that she would take such a thing seriously.

She stopped at the door and turned to look at him. "Remus… You look very weary, and there really is no need here in the castle."

"All right," he said with a smile, coming up next to her. "Just this once, but you'll have to let me play the gentleman from now on."

"I shall," she agreed, smiling up at him.

"You know, this has been nice." He gestured at the chairs by the fire. "Sitting here with you and talking."

"It has been nice," she agreed in a wistful voice.

There would be no better opportunity than this, he knew, and he took it. "Come back tomorrow evening and sit with me, if you can," he invited. "A bit earlier, perhaps. I'd welcome the company."

"I would like that," she replied, but he couldn't tell if she was just being polite or if she truly meant it.

"Then I should expect you?" He nearly held his breath for her reply.

"Certainly."

"Great." Not knowing what to say, he stood looking at her. Should he give her a kiss? Or a hug, maybe?

"Good night, then." She moved closer to embrace him.

The moment progressed with glacial slowness. _She is going to kiss me_, he thought as Calyxa reached up with her arms around his shoulders. He leaned down to her, his hands going to rest on her back. She kissed him at the corner of his mouth, neither on the cheek nor the lips. Then she hugged his shoulders firmly.

"Please, get some sleep," she commanded in a soft voice.

Closing his arms around her, he inhaled the fragrance of her hair. "Yes, my lady," he answered in a near whisper.

When she let go of him, he had no choice but to do the same. "Good night."

* * *

As promised, she returned the next evening and shared a pot of tea with him as they talked and laughed together. Three evenings after that, she returned with a packet of exquisite biscuits covered with dark Italian chocolate. The following week, she brought a bottle of red wine to share, and they ended up drinking the whole thing and laughing together long past midnight. 

Before long, all the staff was aware that they had established a ritual of sitting together some evenings. One of the best parts of these quiet evenings together was when he walked her back to her room and she let him hug her and kiss her upon the cheek. He would hold her for several long seconds, and she would return the embrace.

After a few weeks, they started lessons with Filch in the evening so that the rest of the staff would just think Remus and Calyxa were together.

Filch treated her with awe and respect as if she wrought daily miracles and spoke in scripture; however, the cranky old man also sought to spare her any discomfort. This meant that he would interfere with anyone whom he suspected was giving her a hard time – even Remus, whom he looked upon with disapproval.

"It will be easier when you get your own wand," Remus assured him one evening Filch became more and more frustrated.

"When might that be?" He peered anxiously at Calyxa, who had been watching the lesson in silence.

"We cannot rush such things. Now, you have not been doing your exercises, regularly," she chided gently. "You know that only following the strict regimen will produce the results you seek."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry," he told her very earnestly. "I'll do better."

"Good. At this time, I shall recommend that we go to get your wand during the summer months," she informed him. "Professor Lupin and I shall go with you."

Remus blinked. It was news to him that he would accompany her and Filch to get his wand, but he had no complaint, for it meant getting to spend time with her outside of Hogwarts.

"Summer?" asked Filch in obvious disappointment.

"That is if you concentrate and work steadily from now until then," she explained. "When we began, you agreed to do what it takes. I warned you that it was not an easy thing to do."

"Yes, of course. Of course," said Filch as he set his jaw and turned back to the task.

Remus couldn't help a little grin. Although he had always found the caretaker to be surly and unpleasant, there was something charming in the way Calyxa dealt with him. Remus actually felt sorry for he man and hoped that all this worked. Teaching him was turning out to be as rewarding as teaching children although in a different way. In addition, he also had the opportunity to appear to an advantage in front of Calyxa.

When he allowed himself to think about her, Remus sometimes wondered what she thought of him – a pathetic, lonely old wizard getting as much affection as possible out of her friendly embraces. The sad thing was that he craved her touch not only because he was attracted to her, but because it was his only human contact. She didn't seem to mind; the truth was, she seemed to relish the strong squeezes he gave her when they said goodnight.

It was only natural. She was alone and lonely here away from her life and friends and all the single wizards with whom she was seen. There was no telling how long she would be here. If Sirius wasn't found, it could be the whole school year. There was no way that she would leave while there was still a danger to Harry and the other children. That idea drew a real smile from him. How nice to have her around all those months!

There was only one problem: if she did stay here indefinitely, would her male friends start visiting her here? That would be difficult, but worse than that, he recalled the chill that had gnawed him when she asked about Severus. After meeting the prince, Remus had thought he was the worst possible match for her; now, however, he was not so sure. If she was to have a lover during her time at Hogwarts, he wished it to be a stranger or at least a man he could respect. It had been disturbing enough to see them flirting before they went to the ball together; after everything, he did not think he could endure her with Severus.

_If she wants a lover, then why not me? _he wondered once when he was feeling a twinge of despair.

It was rumored that she collected wizards with immense ease – rich, powerful men, formidable men like Lucius Malfoy. It would be ridiculously easy for her to scoop up a lonely werewolf like him with just her smile and warm glance. Not that he would mind. He just didn't think he could bear being cast aside for someone else.

He knew she was too fine a lady for him. He had nothing at all to offer a woman; he was a poor excuse for a wizard. He was a good teacher, he knew, but such a thing did not make him an attractive partner for a witch. Even Severus, cold and cruel as he was, would make a better match for her. At least he had steady employment, a fairly good reputation in his field, and no health problems.

Anyway, he had had his chance long ago and had pushed her away deliberately and knowing full well what he was doing. She had not asked him why, not yet, not that it mattered. Even if she forgave him, it changed nothing. She was a noblewoman and he was a penniless werewolf. No matter what she said or did, nothing would change that

Already, though, it was too late to disentangle the enchanted web of delicate pleasure in which he was caught, the delicious idea that she was falling in love with him, the fantasy that she would choose _him_ and give up her other admirers. How long this Elysium would have lasted became merely academic on the night that Sirius Black gained entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Awareness of the very real danger to them all smashed Remus back to reality.

* * *

Thanks to Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes for beta reading and to Finrod for guy advice. 


	10. The Attack

**Chapter 9: The Attack**

Overwhelmed by the enormity of what had occurred, of what could have occurred, Minerva McGonagall sank into a chair, shaking her head at the Gryffindors. It was difficult to decide what to do first. _Be sure the students are safe_, she thought reasonably. _Alert the others. Search the castle_.

As she sat there, a white figure fluttered through the portal. A few of the students gasped, and as icy cold fear flooded her, Minerva leapt up with her wand in her hand while cursing herself for having forgotten that the portrait was still hanging open after her consultation with Sir Cadogan.

Ruffled by sleep, barefoot, and clad in a nightdress, the Contessa di Janarra looked swiftly around at the professor and the white-faced students. "Anyone hurt?" she demanded.

Minerva lowered her wand and managed to say, "No. No, no one." She stared in shock at the petite Italian witch in her elegant nightdress with her masses of hair tousled wildly. How had she gotten here so quickly? Even if she had run the whole way, which appeared to be the case, she must have been aware of Black's presence before Weasley woke. Having been a bit skeptical from the beginning of this ability to detect Black, Minerva felt a bit flummoxed to see it was actually useful. "Calyxa, did you –?"

"Yes."

For a second, Minerva did not know what to say. Calyxa met her gaze with deadly intensity. "Are you certain?" she finally asked.

"Yes."

The two women stared at each other with grim looks, and then Minerva nodded. "The castle will have to be searched."

"That is not necessary," Calyxa informed her. "He is gone."

Minerva hesitated. Calyxa seemed so absolutely certain. "Nevertheless, we must take that precaution," she said and then turned to Percy. "Mr. Weasley, please go along and inform the headmaster of what has happened, and be sure to tell him that the contessa is here."

"Yes, Professor," said Percy as he straightened his glasses before heading for the portrait hole.

"Did anyone see him?" Calyxa asked the students. For once, she abandoned her gracious reserve for directness.

"I saw him," Ron volunteered. "Tore the curtains on my bed, he did."

She looked at Minerva. "I need to know what he saw."

This was all moving a bit too quickly for comfort. "Nonsense. Weasley is too young to –"

"I can do it without that," Calyxa cut her off, sounding impatient.

_Just like her mother! _Minerva thought with a scowl, for the old contessa had been a shrewd, manipulative witch despite disarming gentility. As she glanced around, she became aware that some of the boys were staring goggle-eyed at the partially-clad lady. "For pity's sake, will someone not lend the contessa a dressing gown before she catches cold?"

"Here." Several boys struggled to get theirs off, but one of the Weasley twins was there first. Holding his old and threadbare dressing gown chivalrously, he helped the lady slip it on.

"Thank you, George," she said as she cuffed the too-long sleeves.

Minerva wondered for a second how she could tell them apart. Really, she looked ridiculous, like some kind of refugee, in that well-worn dressing gown, which was several sizes too big.

"Now." Calyxa looked around. "May I sit down and talk to this young man?"

This series of events had to be confusing and frightening to the students, but Minerva knew she had little choice under these circumstances, so she nodded. "Very well, but all other students back to bed."

"Allow his brothers to remain," commanded Calyxa rather imperiously, which annoyed Minerva. "And perhaps his friends."

"Yes, I should have guessed," sighed Minerva. "Potter, you and Miss Granger may stay, and Weasleys, Fred and George, you may stay as well."

As the other students were being shepherded back to their rooms by a prefect, Calyxa settled down with Ron on the old sofa in front of the fire with Potter and Granger on either side of them. "Now, Mr. Weasley – it is Ron, is it not?"

He nodded, frowning.

"I am going to ask you to relive what occurred," she explained. "Of course you will know that you are safe here, but it will be frightening to experience it again even though you know what will happen." She studied his face. "If you do not wish to do so, it is all right."

"No, no, I'll do it," he replied, but he sounded a little nervous.

"Good." She smiled a little. "Now, if you relax and just remember, it will be a pleasant experience. Do not fight it, and it will be like a gentle caress."

The boy nodded, but he looked uncertain.

"Good. Excellent." Taking both his hands, she looked into his eyes. "Just remember – you are safe here with your brothers and your friends around you."

He nodded again slowly.

"Now, think back. You were asleep, and something woke you up. A sound?"

With her brow creased slightly, the lady watched him. Ron whimpered and she gently squeezed his hands. "You are safe, Ron. You are safe here with us…" Then, she gasped and her eyes opened wide. "_Losna_!"

"Look at that knife," he insisted.

"Look at the _hair_," she whispered.

What did they see? Minerva could only see the two sitting together and frowning at each other. It was strange. Whatever Calyxa had done, whether it was some ancient magic she had unearthed in her studies, something Albus had taught her years ago at the old contessa's insistence, or something of which all the Janarra were capable, it seemed remarkably simple.

Calyxa sat back, blinking and gently rubbing her thumbs over the back of Ron's hands. "It is over," she told him in a voice that trembled. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." He was shivering. "Feeling a bit cold."

She leaned to embrace him as if he were a small child. When she released him, he seemed more like himself again. "Better?"

He nodded. Now he seemed embarrassed by her attention, and he folded his arms tightly across his chest.

"I'm feeling a bit cold myself," said Fred, and everyone laughed.

The contessa rose. Minerva thought she seemed unusually pale and a bit shaky, but the intensity of her gaze never wavered. "Now, I shall take a look at the dormitory, if you please."

"Yes, ma'am," said Ron, and the others seemed to move towards the stairs with one mind.

"Third year boys only," Minerva announced. "Miss Granger, Fred and George, remain here."

As Calyxa followed to the stairs, George Weasley thrust a pair of battered, well-worn slippers into her hands. "Here, ma'am – you can't go round barefoot!"

With a hint of a smile, she took them and slipped them on her feet. "Thank you again." She glanced back at Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, am I permitted to award Gryffindor ten points for exceedingly gentlemanly conduct?"

"Yes, of course," answered the older woman impatiently. The younger witch looked even more comical now that she was shuffling in slippers made for feet far larger than hers. "Now, let's see what there is to see before Professor Dumbledore needs us."

In the dorm room, the boys told them what had happened in excited voices; young Weasley still seemed a bit shaken up, but that would not last long. Calyxa did not appear to hear anything they said as she stood by the boy's bed and fingered the hangings. In fact, she did not appear to see anything either, for she certainly was not looking at anything in particular.

"There is nothing more to be done here," she finally said. "I shall go speak to the headmaster."

"Yes, let's go," said Minerva crisply, bustling back out to the common room with Calyxa trailing behind slowly. "No one is to leave for any reason until I return," Minerva told the boys who remained before leading the way out of the portrait hole and closing it firmly. She thought about telling Sir Cadogan not to allow the same man back in, but the overzealous painting might refuse to allow entry to anyone after that. Also, Calyxa had been so certain...

"You were able to see him?" she began as they walked. "Recognize him?"

Calyxa looked at her and nodded. "Filthy and still dressed in the robes of the prison. There is no doubt."

Minerva did not need to hear anything else. The two witches walked in silence the rest of the way down to the staff room, where the others, hurriedly dressed or in night things and dressing gowns, were congregating. Everyone looked at Calyxa expectantly.

"He is gone," she said to Albus without preamble but for everyone to hear. "There is no need to search the castle, but I would like the opportunity to walk around the halls a bit to try and find where he entered."

"Gone from the castle?" asked Filius with a worried frown. "Are you certain?"

"Of course I am certain," she snapped. "I can afford no error in such a situation. Not with children in danger."

Filius flinched. The vehemence of her retort had shocked everyone, Minerva noted, though Filch seemed to be glaring at Filius as if he had foully insulted Calyxa. There was a moment of strained silence as the rest of them stared at her before Albus cleared his throat.

"No one doubts you, Calyxa," he said, looking grave, "but we must still search."

She nodded curtly, and Minerva was relieved to see Remus moving to her side and speaking quietly with her. He had always carried a great deal of influence with her and would no doubt soothe her excited nerves.

"We'll do so in pairs," Albus continued. "No one goes alone. I hardly need tell you all to be careful."

All the staff began to pair up and move out into the hall. When she saw that Calyxa went off with Remus, Minerva allowed herself a little smile and banished those worries, for there were plenty of other worries to take their place.

* * *

Despite the seriousness of the situation, despite having to search the castle in the middle of the night, despite having a terrible gnawing fear that Sirius was using his Animagus form to get into the castle, Remus tried to keep his mind clear and focused during the predawn hours. To distract himself from his worries as the grey murkiness gave way to early light, he watched Calyxa. 

With a well-worn man's dressing gown drooping off one shoulder to nearly drag on the floor and overlarge, scuffed slippers on her little white feet, she looked rather fetching. The disheveled mane of hair made her look wild, and the simple nightdress did little to camouflage her curved figure.

At first he entertained himself by imagining what she wore under her nightdress. A sensuous and passionate Italian would probably wear nothing underneath, he reasoned before forbidding himself to think about it at all. It was proving to be too distracting in a very serious situation. He had to turn his mind to less crude but equally entertaining thoughts.

Did the woman have any concept of the effect her current appearance was having on him and some of the others? Ordinarily, he would have assumed that she had orchestrated things to attract attention; in this instance, however, she looked more unkempt and severe than he had ever seen her before. He guessed that she was too busy and distracted to think about her appearance.

He had seen Severus's eyes resting on her when he thought no one would notice. Even old Dumbledore had seemed to cast an extra glance at her bare calves and ankles, but could he be blamed? No, the lady looked lovely, sexy, and rumpled and had no idea what she was doing to them in the not-quite-virginal white nightdress and shabby man's dressing gown. The fact was that she looked like she had just come from a tumble in a man's bed... or was ready for one...

The staff was searching the castle in orderly pairs with each team taking an area. His vicious possessiveness had surfaced quite unexpectedly, so he had volunteered to accompany Calyxa, for he had no intention of letting anyone else get near her while she was in her current state of undress. Now he was following her like a typical male guarding his female as she made the rounds of all the main parts of the castle.

No one had said a thing, but judging by the looks he had received, a few of the others thought it was his dressing gown and slippers she was wearing and his bed that she had just come from. Since he had thrown on his everyday robes, the old dressing gown that was several sizes too big for her could have conceivably been his. He rather enjoyed the idea; however, he wondered whose it _really_ was. It was certainly not the sort of thing that Calyxa would have chosen for herself, nor was it something that might have once belonged to Prince Borodin.

Another man? Obviously. But who? Eyeing the garment in question, he knew it had to belong to someone very poor. The thought made him both jealous and hopeful at the same time: jealous that she had a lover whose dressing gown she wore but hopeful because she had chosen a poor wizard as her lover.

Such thoughts were definitely far from her mind, though. In a manner that was very uncharacteristic, she shuffled about the castle, peering here and there and concentrating very hard, not seeming to see anyone else, concentrating on something not visible. So fierce did she seem, holding herself so straight and frowning so intently, that it reminded him of a little bird of prey guarding her eggs.

"Remus, have you told Professor Dumbledore of all the secret ways into the castle?"

Her voice in the silence startled him, and he turned to see her eyes were actually focused on him. Frowning, he nodded. "Of course. It was one of the first things I did."

She nodded and sighed, and her eyes drifted away from him as they moved down past the Hospital Wing.

"I know that you can't say anything about your way of detecting him," he said, "but is there any reason to believe that he may still be in the castle? Because I would be surprised if he was."

"No," she said, stopping and looking around with a frown. "As I said before, he is gone. I am certain." There was none of the venom in her words that there had been when she snapped at Filius.

"And you're sure it was him?"

When she looked at him and nodded, her eyes were wide and looked haunted. "Yes. There is no doubt at all."

All the distraction that her disheveled state had provided him disappeared. Gravely, he nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing he could say.

She rubbed her forehead hard with the heel of her hand. "He was… frustrated. A bit mad, I think. And very…" She shook her head. "I cannot even put it into words, not even in Italian." She looked at him, then, wide-eyed. "He did not harm that child, that boy, Ron. But he had murder as his intention. I am certain."

How could she know that? He had no doubt it was true – whatever it was she had discovered or invented, he didn't doubt that it worked and was terrifically effective. Still, he had hoped... what? That maybe it was all just some colossal, tragic mistake? No, he knew better than that.

"I'm sorry," he said. And he was, but he was not just sorry for her or for himself, he was also sorry for all they had lost, for the friends that were dead or gone forever, for the horror of betrayal that would never be alleviated. All that and more.

One of them moved. Or maybe it was both. Later, he couldn't recall, but he embraced her and her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. It was difficult to determine who was clinging to whom, but they stood together in the cold, silent half-light of dawn as it slanted down from the massive window at the end of the corridor.

There was some comfort in warmth and affection. A minute passed, and another, and he did not want this to end. Small, soft, she fit just right against him, felt just right in his arms, and protective, possessive feelings pushed out the sorrow and pity he had felt earlier.

In the end, it was she who let go first and pulled back with a slow sigh. "They will be waiting for us," she said. "The sun is nearly up." She smiled wanly at him as if she regretted leaving the precious embrace.

"Let's get you a cup of coffee," he said, taking her arm. He escorted her down to the staffroom, where most of the others had gathered.

When she finally sat down and rubbed her hands over her face, they could all see how worn and exhausted she really was. "I am sorry, Professor," she said to Dumbledore. "I had been asleep, and it woke me. No way to raise an alarm had been set, and I could not think what to do. All I could think was to protect the children. I can now see how foolish and dangerous it was – I left my wand on the night table. But there was no _time_ to do anything else."

The headmaster nodded slowly. "No reason to fret, my dear. Thankfully, no one was hurt. We shall set up a warning system for you to use in case you detect his presence again."

Left her wand? Remus thought in shock. Although she had been practicing everyday magic without a wand since before he even knew her, it was madness to go around alone and unarmed while a murderer was loose in the castle. It was all that he could think about as the others continued talking. What had she been thinking? _Had_ she thought about this at all? Her foolishness, her thoughtlessness worried him. Had she thought to apprehend Sirius single-handedly? Did she think to subdue him with her womanly charms? He thought it unlikely, but she was just a little too sure of herself sometimes.

As he walked her back to her quarters, they did not speak. Determined to confront her about such an impulse, he followed her in to the sitting room and stood watching her as she started the fire. Half of him wanted to shake some sense into her. The other half wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her.

"What did you intend to do if you had found him?" he asked her a bit more bluntly than he wished.

She looked down and shook her head.

Perhaps there was something she knew how to do, something clever and brilliant and foolproof. "Have you… would you have been able to stop him?"

She did not reply.

"Calyxa? Did you intend to try to duel with him?"

"Oh, yes. Duel. That is _exactly_ what I intended."

The sarcasm made him feel defensive. "I thought you might have improved." In his opinion, it had been a reasonable question.

"No, I have not improved, and no, I did not intend to duel. I am amazed you thought I would consider such a thing. _I_ duel with _him_." She laughed a little.

"Then... do you know something else? A different way?"

She sighed. "No. I do not know if I could have stopped him. I would have tried, but certainly not with a hex."

"Did you think he wouldn't hurt you?"

"There is a good chance that he would not, but I cannot know for certain."

If there was anyone on earth whom Sirius would not want to hurt, it would be her; however, he would have once said the same thing of James... A terrible ache seared his heart as he had the thought. "What _would_ you have done had you met him?"

She considered it, chewing on her lip. "I suppose I would have spoken to him."

"Spoken?" he repeated so sharply that she looked up at him in surprise. "He could have killed you."

"I am aware of that," she retorted. "By _Losna_, you are sounding like my father."

"Probably because he and I both care about your well-being," he answered, eyes flashing. "You should not take such risks."

"I had no choice. Anyway, it would not benefit him to harm me, and he knows I pose no threat to him." She looked solemnly at him. "What would _you_ have done?"

Before replying, he wet his dry lips. He found it necessary to force the words out. "I would have stunned him. Or killed him. If I had to."

"I do not believe that."

He frowned at her because he was not sure that he believed it himself. He had tried to plan, to set his mind for a confrontation, but the truth was that he had no idea what he would do if he came face to face with Sirius.

Her eyes searched his face, the earlier annoyance gone. She looked at him with a sober earnestness that he found sweetly compelling. "Remus, whatever it is that you are keeping from Professor Dumbledore, please tell him."

As the meaning of her words sank in, his mouth fell open and he stared at her. How did she know? Was it some kind of lucky guess? No, she made educated guesses, not lucky ones. She knew him very well, and she sometimes had the uncanny knack of knowing what he was thinking. In school, he had feared, several times that she really could sense his thoughts, but he had learned that she could not. _That_ would have been a disaster.

"There's nothing that I'm keeping from him," he assured her. "I've told him everything."

She arched a skeptical brow but did not press the point. "Very well," she sighed.

Now that he took the time to look, she seemed on the edge of exhaustion. He decided to use that as a means to deflect attention from himself. He was feeling worn out as well, but he also had the terrible urge to touch her, to hold her. "Sweetheart," he said very gently, placing his hand on the small of her back, "why don't you go to bed and get some rest? You know I don't want to quarrel with you."

"Yes, I know." She rubbed her hand over her face in the same gesture he had seen her make before.

His arm slipped around her waist. "No unnecessary risks, please."

"No, no," she whispered, turning into the embrace and holding onto him as she buried her face against his chest.

_That was easy_. His arms closed around her. "I don't want to see you hurt," he said in her ear.

"I know." Her voice was muffled against the front of his robes.

He kissed her hair and temple and forehead; it was a Sunday morning and he had no duties today. Had his weariness not prevented him, he would have taken her off to bed whether she had a lover or not. He actually considered it although he knew it was a bad idea. It was a moment of bliss before she pulled away, dragged herself away.

"Remus, you torture me," she whispered, her back to him.

_Torture_ her? He stared at her standing in front of him, looking so forlorn, dressed in her lover's dressing gown, and he wondered what exactly she meant. "I-I don't understand," he stammered. Perhaps he should not have criticized her actions. It had been a difficult night for all of them, especially her. He tried to imagine what it was like to wake up in the cold darkness with a warning that Sirius was in the castle, in the Gryffindor Tower, where the students were sleeping.

It was his own stupid fault for chastising her actions. More than that, he had seen her longing, her need for physical affection. Whatever it was that he had done, it was wrong. Right now, the distance between them felt like a hundred miles.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Forgive me." What to do? There was nothing else to do but ask her. "Shall I go? What would you like me to do?" he asked, quelling an impulse to take a step towards her.

There was a strange little sound from her, either a laugh or a snort. "You cannot make me fifteen again."

What was that supposed to mean? "No one can do that."

"It is as well, for I would not give up my child." She turned to him. Well, she half-turned and did not quite look at him, and her posture was stiff.

"What would you have me do?" he repeated. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

"Would you..." She stopped and cleared her throat. "Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?"

Was that all? To sit and hold her hand? He was relieved and disappointed at the same time. But she was not finished.

"Will you lie with me? I mean, will you hug me – hold me? Until I fall asleep?"

This request he had not expected. _Lie_ with her? In _bed_? Just hold her? On one level, he was not surprised, for it was obvious she was lonely and needy. On the other hand, he was surprised and flattered – and dismayed – that she trusted him that much. As a schoolgirl, she had come to Hogwarts as a timid little thing who knew more about the ways of the world – men and women, sex and courting, marriage and relationships – than all the rest of them. Of course he knew that it had been necessary. Had she been naïve about such things, it would have been her downfall in a place like Venice. Knowing that about her made it harder to believe that she could be that clueless now. She had to realize how absolutely smitten he was, how passionately attracted he was to her.

For her sake, he would pretend he was not. Ten years ago, he would not have been able to do such a thing without embarrassing himself. Now, he knew himself well enough to know that he could lie innocently next to her for hours. Well, if he had been well-rested... perhaps not. But he was truly weary now.

"Of course I will," he answered. "Come on, get in bed. You look like you're half asleep already."

The stiff posture relaxed and her eyes came up to meet his. The hint of a smile flittered across her face before she turned to lead him into her bedroom.

He could not watch her slip off the other man's dressing gown. Instead, he took out his wand and drew the heavy drapes across the windows to block out as much daylight as possible. Once she had slipped under her duvet, he set his wand on one of the night tables and sat down to take off his shoes.

When he climbed under the covers with her and settled on his back, she moved alongside and nestled against him with her hair flipped up onto the pillows. No doubt she was accustomed to sleeping with a man, for he found it easy to wrap his arm around her without one strand of hair tickling him. Head on his shoulder and arm across his waist, she sighed deeply in contentment. In a matter of minutes, she was breathing deeply. Endeavoring to savor the moment, he kept himself awake as long as possible.

* * *

As usual, thanks to Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes for beta-reading. Special thanks to Finrod the Faithful for the guy's point of view. 

Mystress of the Dark, thanks for the comments. I can't respond to anonymous reviews, or else I would have done so earlier.A major section told during 1977-78 will start after six or seven more chapters. I currently have three finished, one almost finished (but unbetaed), one in rough draft form, and one or two more still only in conception mode.  
I think the current chapter and the next two or three will provide plenty of interaction between Calyxa and Remus.


	11. The Aftermath

**Chapter 10: The Aftermath**

The occasional rumbling of his empty stomach woke Remus. He lay on his side with his arm holding Calyxa and ignored his hunger. She was curled with her back to him hugging his arm to her chest the way a child hugged a doll. In his sleep-fogged mind, he perceived that embrace as possessiveness, which pleased him. Combined with her familiar scent and the ache of an erection, it made him sigh in deep contentment. Overwhelmed by the scent and sensation, he nuzzled her ear and neck as he rubbed against her. Even through the layers of her nightdress and his robes, she was soft and warm, and he realized somewhere in his groggy partial consciousness that he had been right, that she had nothing on under hers.

His fingers rested against her throat; trying not to wake her, he carefully slid his arm from her lax grasp down until he realized that his hand was upon her breast. That brought him completely awake and aware.

For several long seconds, he waited to see if he had woken her. She breathed evenly, though, so he knew she was still asleep. The contact had been accidental and innocent, but the feelings and thoughts racing through his mind were anything but innocent. Even at age fifteen, Calyxa had been a full-bosomed girl, and he had dreamed of an opportunity like this. What harm could it do to just let his hand wander? Just touch her? She would not realize, she would never know…

_No_, he told himself firmly. She _trusted_ him! No better than a randy teenager, he had been about to feel her up when he was supposed to be making her feel safe.

A bitter flood of disgust killed the remnants of his ardor. He eased himself away from her before climbing out of bed and then fixing the duvet over her. There was no sound save her deep, slow breaths, so he found his shoes and wand in the murky light and let himself out.

It was nearly dinner time already. Neither hungry nor in any mood to see others, Remus headed out into the cold dusk and shoved his fists in his pockets. The night air cleared his mind a little but did nothing to alleviate his bitterness.

Before they had drifted off to sleep, he had feared that she might wake and mistake him for her boyfriend. Not that he would be opposed to a little affection from her, he admitted. He would take anything she offered. After last night, though, he could not play dumb and pretend that there was a possibility of being with her, that she was falling in love with him.

No, comforting her as a platonic friend was as close as he would get to affection. It was a role he knew how to play very well, but the delicious dreams of the past few weeks were gone. He felt stupid and naïve for even imagining that a lady of her stature would choose him. It was ridiculous to imagine them going out together in public. What had he been thinking? Would he take her, with her exquisite robes and formal manners, to a corner pub for a pint? Or would he accompany her to a formal event where even his best robes would make him a laughingstock? What would the papers say about her being seen with a poverty-stricken werewolf?

Through all the pain and turmoil, he could not stop his mind from returning to one question: to whom did the dressing gown belong? In the papers, she had been linked to numerous wizards, but not one of them was the type of man to have such a garment. What kind of man would let his lady take such a thing with her to remind her of him when they were parted?

The only explanation was that she kept the relationship private. How else to explain the lack of publicity? She had been seeing her poor, humble wizard in private and loved him enough to protect him from the press. For her to actually wear such an unfortunate dressing gown, she must truly adore him. The realization that she had fallen in love with a poor nobody pained Remus most of all because he knew that it could have been him, had the timing been right.

Not that it mattered. He had been fooling himself, and now he knew the truth. No matter what she took from him, he was only a replacement for the other man. It was better this way and certainly no more than he deserved.

* * *

The meeting with Professor Dumbledore had been long, Calyxa reflected as she made her way down towards her office. Long but satisfying. Instead of scolding her, the dear old man had expressed pleasure at her actions and had taken full responsibility for not setting a means of warning him when she detected Sirius. Overall, she felt much better now than she had in the wee hours of the morning. 

Coming into the corridor, she met Mr. Filch. The poor old man must have been lurking there, waiting for her. "Ah. Good evening," she greeted.

"Evenin', ma'am," the caretaker answered, seeming a bit anxious. "I, well, I ain't had time to do any of my practicing today. I just haven't had the time."

"Of course not," she answered. "It has been quite an experience. No, I would say that today you can be excused from your exercises, but see that you resume them tomorrow."

Filch looked relieved. "Thank you, ma'am."

"There is no need to thank me," she assured him. "Now, if you would be so kind, would you ask George Weasley to come to my office for a moment?"

"Sure I will." Now that he was off the hook, Mr. Filch seemed glad to do any little favor. "I'll send him right up."

She went the rest of the way in silence. In front of the fireplace in the unused classroom that served as her office, Calyxa stood, motionless, staring into the flames. At the meeting, they had discussed what had happened and what it might mean; she still dwelt on the thoughts, which swirled and fluttered around her like living things.

_Sirius._

As a boy, he had been nothing but trouble. Nothing good had come from her friendship with him. Yet, she recalled a snowy holiday... sitting on his knee outside in the dark… kissing him while the others watched from the windows...

She leaned her forehead against the grey marble mantle. It was cold, smooth, and hard. How was it possible that the annoying, endearing boy she had known had been sent to prison for crimes against those whom he most loved? Sirius Black, that irritating boy – she had disliked him until she found something sterling in his character, and then she had been able to love him.

_Deliberately stupid_, she had once called him, she recalled with a tiny smile. Later, though, she had realized that he was only a little naïve, but it had not been his fault. What had happened to that boy? That tall, pretty boy she had known?

There was no doubt that he had intended murder last night, cold-blooded murder. But he had not hurt the young Weasley boy. It would have been easy to silence him with one flash of his knife, but he had not. His expression had been… indecipherable. There was something strange there that she did not know or understand.

There was something that Remus was not telling her. As well as she knew him, it was obvious that he was keeping a big secret. But what was it?

More that that, Remus provoked a terrible longing on her part. He had made clear that there could never be anything more than friendship between them, which she had come to accept. He struggled with the attraction between them, of course, isolated out here at the school where there were very few single women around. However, he was gentleman enough not to take advantage of the physical when he could not also fulfill the emotional.

_Tell me what to do, and I'll do it_, he had said, completely unaware of how painful it was to hear him say those words.

"Are you all right?" A voice right beside her brought her back into the present in a rush.

She turned with a start. George Weasley stood watching with a frown.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," he said. "I did knock."

"I was wrapped too tightly in my thoughts." She took a deep breath to recover her composure. "Tell me, how is your brother? Recovered from his ordeal?"

"And then some," he said with a grin. "Enjoying the attention, I'd say."

She could not help smiling in response. Thank the Goddess the boy had not been killed! "I am glad to hear it," she said as she walked over to the table.

He followed her. "Though I must say the story changes a bit every time he tells it."

The comment made her laugh, which seemed to encourage the boy.

"I was wondering," he began. "That thing you did. When you wanted to see what he saw."

"Sharing memories? It is common among the Janarra."

"Could you teach me how to do that?"

Although she had the urge to laugh again, she remained somewhat serious. "I am not a teacher," she reminded him. "And I think you would have to live among us for a time and learn the old ways. It is quite different than the life here. Even Amanita is now learning such things."

"And how long 'til she's able to do it?"

"One cannot be sure about such things, but probably not until she is twelve or thirteen."

"That long," he said with a sigh.

"Well, I cannot say if it takes that long or if the magical ability increases as a child reaches a certain age." His dressing gown and slippers, freshly laundered and folded, were tied into a neat little set that she picked up and presented to him. "I am sorry to trouble you to come all the way here, but thank you so much for your kind thoughtfulness."

"It was nothing." Standing still, holding the parcel, he was smiling and looking at her rather directly. Looking at her with an expectant expression that puzzled and alarmed her.

Something strange disoriented her; it took a second to realize that he was alone. "I cannot recall ever meeting you without your brother."

"Well, Filch wouldn't let Fred come. He said you asked for me to come alone."

The words and the tone of voice with which they were spoken caused Calyxa to freeze. Poor old Filch had thought he was doing her a favor in making her deal with only one of the boys whom he detested. Why had she not realized what was going on before now? What could George be thinking? That she was going to reward him with a kiss?

In the first moment after her surprise had worn off, she told herself that she might as well kiss the boy. Kiss him and take him back to her room and teach him how to please a woman. Of course, teenaged boys were awkward and inexperienced, but they supposedly could perform five times a night.

These wicked thoughts shocked and amused her in varying degrees. _If you are that desperate, Calyxa, you could contact Lucius Malfoy_, she thought in disgust. _And whatever happens, every boy in the Gryffindor dormitory will know by midday tomorrow_.

"Mr. Weasley, will you not sit down for a moment?" she asked quite formally.

He hesitated before going to sit in his usual chair.

She sat across the table and looked at him with a serious expression. "I cannot express how much I appreciate your kindness, but I am afraid that it is terribly inappropriate for us to be alone together for any length of time."

His frown deepened, but he looked guilty. Oh, yes, he had certainly been thinking about it. "Why?"

"I have been vilified in the newspapers for things that are completely untrue. My enemies are just waiting for some true scandal to use against me, and just being alone here with you will be enough to start the gossip. You are a student. And underage."

He grinned, unembarrassed, with a glint in his eyes. The idea had obviously occurred to him.

"With the things that are said about me, my position here at the school is a bit precarious." She mused for a second and then finally said, "Would you have me treated even worse than I am now?"

"'Course not." Now he looked a bit uncomfortable.

She studied him without speaking for a long two minutes. "If Amanita were your age, I do not think I would approve of her being alone with a man in his thirties."

He grinned again with that wicked sparkle in his eyes. Really, the boy was shameless! "I suppose my Mum would be a bit upset as well. More so if it was Percy instead of me, though."

Although she had met Mr. Arthur Weasley, their father, a few times at the Ministry for Magic, she had never had to opportunity to meet the mother. George's sentiment seemed reasonable, though: Percy, whom she did not know at all, seemed rather more delicate than the twins or young Ron. Or even young Miss Weasley.

"You know, Malfoy is going around saying that Snape asked you out. Took you to a party at his house. Granger says that's rubbish, that he just took you so you didn't have to go all that way alone."

For a second, she thought he meant Lucius, but it soon dawned on her that he was speaking of the son. "It is not seemly for a lady to speak of such personal things with a gentleman, and I must ask you not to gossip with the other students," she told him. "However, I will tell you that your friend Mr. Malfoy was misinformed and Miss Granger was perfectly correct."

"He's not my friend," George insisted. "We couldn't imagine you'd go out with that that…" He trailed off before saying something of which he knew she would disapprove. "Well, my sister and some of the other girls think Lupin's your boyfriend. Now, _he_'s all right."

That remark took her by surprise, but she did not show it. "I think that there is no unmarried wizard that has not been rumored to be my boyfriend," she remarked with a self-mocking smile. "Does anyone think that Professor Dumbledore is my boyfriend?"

He grinned. "It'd be better than Snape."

With a little frown of disapproval, she shook her head. "Whatever you may think of him, Professor Snape is a brilliant wizard and a friend of mine."

It was something he had heard her say more than once. "I know," he said but refrained from adding anything unflattering about his Potions professor.

"I must now say good night," she told him as she got to her feet, and he did the same. "Thank you again for your kindness and understanding."

He took up his parcel again and walked with her to the door. "It was nothing. Really."

"Not to me," she sighed before holding out her hand. "Good night, George."

He took her hand and kissed it, and then he grinned at her. "'Night, Countess."

* * *

As always, kudos to the stellar beta readers: Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes. Special thanks to Finrod the Faithful for the guy point of view. 


	12. Wolfsbane

Warning: alcohol abuse

**

* * *

Chapter 11: Wolfsbane**

Severus Snape enjoyed the silence, the absence of students, as he carefully restocked the materials on the classroom shelves. There were at least twenty minutes before students would begin arriving for his first class of the day. Thirty, if he was lucky.

The sound of a knock at the door surprised and annoyed him. His little oasis of silence before the horror of his day was precious to him. Who was interrupting it? "Enter," he called in a terse tone, hoping that the unwanted visitor would get the hint and not trouble him long.

Calyxa di Janarra entered, looking quite dull despite cheerful yellow robes. The normally pale contessa looked pasty and grumpy, and her eyes were half closed. "Good morning, Severus. Sorry to disturb you," she muttered in a low voice as she came over to his desk.

His annoyance increased. He was going to _have to_ be polite to her, and he doubted that he would find an excuse to get rid of her quickly. On the other hand, here was the opportunity for which he had been waiting. In the weeks that had passed since Black's entry to the castle had drawn her from Lupin's bed wrapped in his dressing gown, he had not had any chance to speak with her alone. Although he had no proof, Severus suspected that the werewolf was guarding her from other men in the territorial way of the lower animals.

"No apology is necessary. This is a lovely surprise for a Thursday morning." He attempted to make his welcome as warm as possible.

"I am truly sorry to take up your time when you are busy preparing for classes," she replied. "But I wonder if you have _qualcosa per i postumi di una sbornia_?"

Hiding his surprise, he frowned at her. He had never heard the Italian before for a tonic to cure a hangover, but he understood what she meant. "I would think that Madam Pomfrey would be able to dispense that particular treatment."

The little Italian witch transformed one of the ordinary desks into a stool with a wave of her hand. "Yes, that is so, but her doses come with a lecture on the evils of over-imbibing." She sat upon the stool and then glowered at him. "I thought you would not subject me to such a thing."

At first, he was distracted by seeing her use magic, something she rarely did. Although the spell was a ridiculously simple one, she did it without her wand. It annoyed him to see her do it so casually, so remarkably easily. Of course, he could do the same things with the same ease – when he had the time to get in the practice of working without a wand. Somewhere down deep, it made him feel inferior, and he hated her for that.

After that first rush of negative emotions had faded, he could not help but feel amusement. Poppy Pomfrey was someone he respected professionally; however, it was easy to imagine her lecturing a poor wretch with a bad head about the dangers of excessive drink.

"I have none, but I do have a bit of Compos Mentis Draught to spare, if you'd like." As he moved slowly to one of the cupboards, his mind was at work. _Careful here_, he thought. _This is a situation that can make or break her trust in you_.

"_Losna_. Severus, I shall be in your debt."

"Nonsense." He poured a measured amount into a dosing cup and turned to bring it to her. "I know you would do the same for me if I were in pain."

"Yes, certainly," she muttered, taking the cup from him and drinking it. "Thank you." She leaned her elbow on the big desk and rubbed her forehead.

As he watched her sitting there and suffering, an idea occurred to him. "Is it being with that beast that makes you drink so much?"

Her head snapped up and she cursed vehemently in Italian, which he did not understand. "What do you mean?"

How lightly should he tread here? It was hard to say. "Lupin is a wolf, after all"

"_All_ men are wolves," she said without any hint of amusement. "_I_ should know."

Her remark offended him even though he agreed with her. "I am not particularly flattered by such a generalized evaluation of the fifty percent of the world's population of which I happen to be a member."

Calyxa muttered again in Italian, which amused him a little although he was sure he would not be pleased if he understood what she said.

"My dear Calyxa," he began in his best reasonable tone. "There is no need to pretend. No one can overhear us here." He considered the situation for a second. "I was correct when I told you that nothing that occurred at the Malfoys' would make the newspapers, wasn't I?"

"You were correct." With a frown, she picked up a flat, square stone that he used to sharpen his instruments. She looked at first astonished and then pleased; finally, she glanced up at him with a smile.

"Your affair with Lupin is no secret," he announced before she could say anything about the stone. "I am not saying that you have been indiscreet. On the contrary, none of us would have really suspected it if you had not appeared wearing his appalling dressing gown the night of Black's attack."

As he spoke, her eyes grew wider. She set down the stone and stared at him as if he were insane. "Affair? No, you are mistaken. There is nothing between us. Between Remus and me. And the appalling dressing gown belonged to George Weasley."

"George Weasley?" he repeated sharply in utter disbelief.

She laughed and winced and put her head down against her hand. "Oh, Severus!" she laughed. "Do you really think I have been seducing schoolboys?"

"Of course not," he answered rather gruffly, feeling foolish and hating it.

"Though the thought did cross my mind." Now she sat up and looked at him, amusement and illness both still apparent on her face. "I told myself that I should not be so quick to reject Lucius if I was desperate enough to consider a fifteen-year-old boy."

Was she serious? Schooling his expression to be one of mild amusement, he studied her. She seemed to be speaking honestly, but it was difficult to tell before she put her head down upon her hand again.

"Forgive me. I should not be so flippant about such a thing. The simple truth is that I had forgotten everything in my panic to get there – my wand, slippers, dressing gown – so Minerva asked him to lend it to me."

The explanation was so simple and stupid that he knew it had to be true. So, she wasn't sleeping with the werewolf. It gave him a twisted sense of pleasure.

"I cannot understand how you can deal with these children day after day," she sighed. "They have already driven me mad."

"It is your own foolish fault for agreeing to allow them to help in your research," he chided.

Again, she lifted her head to look at him with amusement; this time, however, she seemed a bit better. "You are certainly correct," she replied but said no more about it. "Do you remember Jillian Pentland? You would know her as Jillian Kipping."

"She was your friend, wasn't she?"

"Yes, we shared the dormitory room." Calyxa smiled nostalgically; she looked a bit recovered, and Severus guessed that the potion was working. "She's a herbologist now right outside London. Since I am too busy to visit her, she is going to come here this weekend for a visit. We are planning to have an evening out to dine in Hogsmeade, far away from the children. Pomona and Filius are going to come, and perhaps Remus and Minerva as well. Will you not join us?"

The invitation took him completely by surprise. He only remembered Jillian Kipping very vaguely as a tall Ravenclaw girl, and he could not imagine why Calyxa was inviting him to join them. He wanted to refuse. In truth, he imagined the evening would be yawningly tedious, and the werewolf would no doubt attend. Of course, in her current miserable state, Severus would be ill-advised to attempt to learn something useful from Calyxa now. A relaxed dinner among friends, however, was another thing entirely. It would mean enduring Lupin's company for the whole evening, but it could be a highly rewarding sacrifice.

"I would be delighted," he answered in as cordial a way as he could. "I suppose I should check to see if I have enough Compos Mentis Draught for the following morning."

* * *

As well as she knew Calyxa, it quickly became apparent to Jillian Pentland that the stylish Italian witch was in love with Remus Lupin. 

_After all these years_, she thought, shaking her head and watching the two of them chatting with Professor Flitwick. The knowledge shocked her. Of course, Calyxa had been terrifically fond of Remus when they were students, but with all that had happened since then, this was a remarkable turn of events.

Calyxa had exquisite taste, _expensive_ taste, and was always seen with the most interesting wizards, the best-dressed wizards – the most well-connected, well-mannered, well-heeled wizards. She had married the nonpareil Borodin della Toscana. Even in school, there had been Sirius Black, who had been far too handsome for his own good. And although Calyxa was warm and gracious – and a terrible flirt – with all men, she never seemed to care more or less about one or another. Of course, she had been quite attached to Borodin, but that love had developed over a long period of time.

Lupin had always been enamored of her as well, but now he seemed a bit reserved, as if he were trying very hard not to show how he felt when he looked at her. The poor man must be terribly aware of the difference in their social classes and of the way people perceived him based on his appearance. At first glance, it was true that they looked odd together: elegant Calyxa in her gorgeous robes and scruffy Lupin in drab robes that had seen better days. As they dined in one of the back rooms of the Three Broomsticks, Jillian grew accustomed to it and thought they actually made a sweet pair. They were chatting, bantering, words flowing back and forth, and Jillian felt a warm glow of pleasure to see her friend happy again after the agonizing divorce.

For much of dinner, Calyxa and Snape spent a long time in deep discussion, and Jillian heard them talking about memories and a boy called Weasley. A herbologist by profession, Jillian herself engaged in a lively, interesting discussion with Professor Sprout.

When they were finishing their pudding, she heard Calyxa's voice call to Snape. "You should have done it, Severus," she told the man for all to hear as if they had all been part of the conversation she was having with him, Lupin, and Flitwick. "And hang Wolfsbane. You should improve it; make it a potion that will _prevent_ the transformation."

"Really, Contessa?" asked Snape with an arched brow. "Why would I be interested in doing such a thing?"

The others braced themselves, for even Jillian had heard that the Potions master had no sense of humor, but Calyxa was smiling, a pursed little smile with brilliant, sparkling eyes, as if an enormous – and very unladylike – grin was lurking just beneath the surface.

_Oh, Merlin, what's she up to? _Jillian thought, for she had seen that look many times before.

"Because, my dear Severus, it would mean Order of Merlin, First Class," Calyxa declared.

Before Snape could reply, however, she rose from her chair, looking flushed and bright eyed, and began to pace. "Stand back," laughed Lupin. "There she goes."

"It could not be so terribly difficult," she said. "Just a matter of common sense, really."

"Developing a potion to prevent the transformation would not be difficult?" asked Professor McGonagall with a skeptical arch of an eyebrow.

Lupin refilled Calyxa's glass and held it out to her. "Don't forget this." Jillian had the impression that he wanted to discourage her from going on. Of course, he would probably prefer to have her settled close beside him and flirting outrageously rather than expounding at length on an academic subject.

"Thank you," she said as she took the glass, and she sipped it as she paced. "And, yes, Professor, I do not see it as being difficult, but rather time consuming. If we would examine the nature of the illness, we must ask ourselves what triggers the transformation."

"The moon," Jillian volunteered.

"The full moon," corrected Professor Sprout.

"Yes, but not precisely." Calyxa paused to conjure a little image of the sun, moon, and earth hovering and turning before them. It always amazed Jillian when she did such things without a wand although she had learned that it was not very difficult if one practiced.

"The moon is new because we cannot see the reflection of the sun upon it. Although we view the aspects – full, gibbous, crescent, and new – the moon is always there." She sipped her wine and looked at them with a brilliant glow in her eyes. "So what is it, truly, which triggers the transformation?"

"The moonlight?" wondered Flitwick.

"Interesting. What happens to the wolf during a full lunar eclipse? Remus?"

For a moment, the man looked pale, almost stricken, as if the question unnerved him. He kept his gaze, now deadly serious, on Calyxa as if he did not want to meet someone's eyes. It puzzled Jillian; after all, it was a valid question to ask an instructor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, which had been Calyxa's worst subject by far at school. In fact, Lupin used to help her with it, Jillian now recalled.

"Nothing," he answered, sounding quite normal. "There is no effect."

"So it is not the light of the moon," Calyxa announced, continuing with her pacing, so wrapped up in her thought process that she hadn't even noticed Lupin's discomfort.

"It's the power," Lupin supplied. He looked fine now. "The magic."

"Excellent, Professor Lupin," she announced, looking at him with delight. "Five points to Gryffindor."

Jillian held her breath at the look that passed between them. _Dan and I used to look at each other that way_, she recalled, thinking of her husband. The others had to have noticed!

"In ancient times," Calyxa continued, "my people worshipped _Leukothea_, who is a goddess of the seas and the power of the moon, or the light of the moon, which to them was the same thing. Now, Severus." She paced to the end of the table and turned. "What is the effective ingredient in the Wolfsbane Potion?"

"My dear Contessa, you hardly need me to answer such an absurd question," sighed Snape as if her feigned ignorance pained him, but the glint in his eyes showed that he was enjoying the performance. Jillian now worried that perhaps he had designs on Calyxa, who was sometimes far too trusting, in order to injure Lupin.

"Careful, Professor Snape," Calyxa shot back. "I might have to give you a detention if you refuse to answer my question."

"That sounds more like a promise than a threat," said Lupin with a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Jillian hid a smile behind her hand and saw that the others were chuckling as well. It was all too hilarious to take seriously despite the heavy subject matter. Still, she felt certain that Lupin was covering up a twinge of jealousy as he watched his Calyxa tease the other man

Snape's eyes glittered and a little smile of amusement played around the edges of his mouth. "Indeed. Such an event could prove to be quite… _interesting_."

"Certainly," she replied, looking from Snape to Lupin and back, "for I have always had a weakness for naughty boys."

"Calyxa!" said Professor McGonagall, but she was laughing.

The lady began pacing again. "What is the property of Wolfsbane? What about it makes it effective?"

"Why, it blooms only in the light of the full moon," said Jillian.

"That is a related fact, but it does not explain why it can lessen the effect of lycanthropy."

"I feel like I'm preparing for my Potions' N.E.W.T.s," declared Lupin and then turned to Snape. "Is this how you teach?"

"Hardly."

"Gentlemen," Calyxa called. "Wolfsbane. Properties. Lycanthropy. Why is it useful?"

"Well…" Lupin concentrated. "It blooms in the light of the full moon, so it must… _retain_ some of that moonlight, some of the power."

"That, Professor Lupin," she said with a mischievous smile, "earns you a kiss."

Laughing but self-conscious, he stood and leaned down so Calyxa could kiss him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and at first, Jillian thought she was merely going to give him a brief, chaste kiss. It made sense; after all, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were watching. Although that may even have been Calyxa's original intention, Jillian wasn't sure later whether or not to give her the benefit of the doubt. As it happened, the kiss lingered a bit and Calyxa – the shameless hussy! – kissed him a second time and a third. Soft little delicate teasing kisses.

Lupin's arms slipped around her. The man was lost, and Jillian feared that he would forget where he was. She did not worry idly or without reason; however, she was relieved that Calyxa's lively mind was too engaged to be dulled even by the combination of wine and the narcotic effects of her lover's kisses.

"Enough of that," Calyxa announced, turning and disentangling herself from Lupin's embrace. "You are going to distract me," she accused, pacing just as before, calm and unaffected.

_The tease! _thought Jillian in astonishment. _How does she get away with such things? _

The others were laughing and watching her, for she was luminous, but Jillian's eyes were fixed on Lupin. The poor man's eyes were dark and unfocused for second or two, and then he stared after her with raw, stark hunger. She felt a bit embarrassed to have witnessed something so private; when she glanced away, however, she saw Snape had seen the same thing, only he looked coldly amused by the sight.

"Now, we know that Wolfsbane can alleviate the effects of the full moon," Calyxa was saying, "because it retains some of that light." She stopped and looked at each of them. "The next step is obvious."

They all stared at her in varying degrees of incomprehension. "Please enlighten us," said Professor Flitwick.

"Why, bypass the plant entirely and use moonlight itself," she answered.

Jillian laughed, but the others frowned at Calyxa as they considered the idea. "What kind of vessel would one use to contain moonlight?" asked Snape.

"I have no idea," Calyxa answered.

"This is all rather hypothetical," commented Professor McGonagall.

"Wolfsbane Potion was theoretical only a few years ago," said Snape. "Everything was once theoretical."

Calyxa was pacing again. "Everything _was_ once theoretical," she repeated. "Severus, I have always maintained that you are a genius, and this is just another question like the ones I used to torture the professors with because they did not know the answers. No one can answer because no one has tried it yet, but tell me: if I can... catch the moonlight, capture it... can you contain it?"

Stroking his chin, frowning, Snape regarded her with a deep frown. "Possibly. There is too much I don't know to answer with any more certainty."

She stopped and smiled at him. "That is what I had hoped you would say."

"And how do you intend to capture moonlight?" asked Professor McGonagall with her usual rather skeptical air.

"The same way I do everything: by trial and error." Again, she began to pace. "But there are other things that we must discover first. What occurs during the bite? What type of pathogen is exchanged between the saliva and blood? And does it remain in the blood or somewhere else?"

"I can't answer your questions," Lupin told her with a strained smile. "But I'm sure there is someone that can."

Jillian felt immensely sorry for him and hoped that Calyxa would make it up to him later.

"Anyway, tonight is not a time for work," Professor Flitwick chided, and they all had to agree with him.

The whole performance had been entertaining but a bit strange, Jillian thought. While Calyxa was the perfect person to discuss the poisonous Wolfsbane herb or the moon simply because of what she was, there was something strange in the way Snape had been acting. Not knowing him very well, Jillian could do little more than wonder at it. Was he working on some kind of improvement for the Wolfsbane potion?

Later, back in Calyxa's rooms, Jillian mused over the situation. It had been obvious that Calyxa and Remus were trying to keep their relationship private, but it seemed absurd to imagine that the others didn't know. "Don't think you two are fooling anyone," she teased the inebriated witch.

"If I wanted to fool you, I would do so," replied Calyxa lazily from where she reclined on the sofa, "and you would be none the wiser."

"I mean about you and Remus. Everyone knows."

The Italian witch sat up with a deep frown. "Everyone knows? Everyone knows what? There is nothing to know."

"It's okay. I like him. I really like him, and he obviously makes you happy." She thought she knew why Calyxa was hesitant to make their relationship public. "He's not the stylish dresser that Borodin is, but you don't really care about that. Do you?"

Slowly, Calyxa shook her head. "No, you have mistook the situation. There is nothing between us..." She trailed off and looked a bit confused. "Have we not had this conversation already? I seem to recall speaking of it quite recently."

"No, we haven't," said Jillian. "And I don't believe you. Don't play coy with me, I know you too well."

"That is so, but you are wrong in this instance," said Calyxa very soberly, looking almost grieved. "He and I are friends, and it is by his choice that we are not more."

"His choice?"

"With his own words, he told me that there could only be friendship between us. He was quite explicit about it."

The news shocked Jillian, for she knew that Calyxa would not say such a thing to camouflage the truth. Why would he say such a thing? She had seen his face after Calyxa had kissed him… just thinking of that look of unconcealed longing and desire made Jillian blush. How on earth could a man deny such powerful feelings?

Perhaps he was too afraid of being humiliated by the difference in their social status? Perhaps there was someone else waiting for him? A wife? No, Calyxa had a sense about those things and would certainly know if he was married.

"Maybe he meant because he's from the working class," she said aloud. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding."

"Jillian, this is too painful to talk about," sighed Calyxa. "I would love to laugh and tell you that you are correct. Please believe me when I say that I cannot."

With a nod, Jillian bit her lip and decided to say no more about it though she hoped to be able to find out something about Lupin that would explain his rejecting poor Calyxa.

* * *

The usual praise and thanks go to beta-readers Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes. Special thanks also go to Finrod the Faithful. 


	13. The Doge Who Could Not Speak Italian

_Nonno _ Grandpa

**

* * *

Chapter 12: The Doge Who Could Not Speak Italian**

Holding Mamma's hand, Amanita reached into her pocket and jingled the coins in there. Three Sickles she had got from Nonno. It was enough for yummy sweets to eat today and tomorrow and maybe the day after that. Although Mamma did not like sweets, she always seemed happy to go to the sweets shop. She enjoyed going down to the village and walking outside in the cool, bright air. She did not usually have time to go to the village, so Amanita would walk with Mrs. Chalaza. It was nice to walk with her, but not as nice as walking with Mamma. Everyone looked at Mamma and smiled.

The castle was very big and there were too many big boys and girls. Sometimes they made Amanita feel afraid. The castle was nicest when all the big boys and girls were in the school rooms. Then Amanita and Mrs. Chalaza could walk in the quiet halls. At luncheon, there was very much noise, but she sat with Mamma and the grownups. Amanita liked Professor Dumbledore very much. He always had some sweets in his pocket. She wanted to pull his whiskers, but she knew Mamma would be angry if she did. She also liked Professor Lupin because he made Mamma smile and laugh very much. Even when Mamma was tired and perhaps a bit cross.

The day was cool, but the sun was bright and warm. The air smelled like many flowers and sheep. Spring here was very cool, not like at home. At Papà's villa and at Nonno's _palazzo_, spring was sometimes very hot. Mamma liked to walk outside no matter what the weather was, though she was not very fond of snow. Amanita loved the snow. Amanita skipped and sang a little song as she walked. Mamma was smiling, and she began to sing as well.

There was nothing Amanita loved as much as when Mamma sang. Of course, nobody had magic quite like Mamma's. Her magic was strong and elegant and pretty. As she sang, a few butterflies with shiny blue wings began to flutter around them in a slow circle. The flowers that grew wild along the side of the road swayed in time to the tune.

A smooth white pebble from the ground swirled into the air and began to dance in a circle around them with the butterflies. Amanita sang with Mamma, but she was watching. The pebble was joined by a pinecone and a tiny green apple that bobbed and danced slowly. A green dragonfly zoomed past the butterflies like a daredevil in his own little dance around them. Amanita loved the black zigzag pattern on his brilliant green body.

No. Nobody had magic like Mamma's magic!

The streets of Hogsmeade were clean and very pretty. Mamma had to stop singing, but Amanita was growing more excited as she walked to the sweets shop with Mamma and thought about what kind of sweets she would choose. With three Sickles, she could choose three different kinds, maybe.

A deep bark interrupted her thoughts, and she stopped skipping and singing. "Doge!" she cried when she saw the large black dog in one of the alleys on the right. "Mamma, it is Doge!" she said in English.

Mamma smiled at Doge. She loved all creatures, although big animals, like Doge, made her a little nervous at first. "Good day to the Doge," said Mamma very politely in Italian as they changed their direction to go and pat his head. She was always polite to everyone, even creatures. Papa sometimes had trouble being polite, but not Mamma. Amanita did not know why she spoke Italian to Doge, though, for he was an English dog.

"Doge, I am going to the sweet shop," Amanita told the dog in English. "I have three Sickles from my Grandpapa."

"The Doge looks very clean," said Mamma in very formal Italian as she scratched Doge's ears. Mamma often spoke formally to those that they met. It was something Amanita could not do very well, but she tried hard to be formal and polite when speaking with adults. There was no need to be formal with Doge, though.

"Mamma, why do you not speak English?" asked Amanita in shock. She had always been taught that it was terribly rude to speak Italian if not everyone understood it.

"Speak English?" asked Mamma in surprise. "But why?"

"Because Doge does not speak Italian," Amanita told her. Why did she not realize that? Mamma usually knew such things. "It would be rude to speak it because he cannot understand."

"Is that so?" Mamma looked at the dog in surprise. "I thought that all dogs understood Italian," she said in English. "Well, forgive me, Doge." She smiled at Amanita. "The name does not quite suit you, though."

Well, the dog was very big and pretty and nice, and Mamma did not like the old Italian word _doge_. When she looked at him, though, Amanita thought he must be hungry. "Are you hungry, Doge?" she asked the dog.

Doge barked and smiled his clever dog smile, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. Yes, he was hungry, but he did not want the little girl to be concerned with him. He had many squirrels and rats to catch.

Amanita was very sorry for Doge. He had no family to care for him and brush his black fur and give him a juicy bone in front of the hearth. "Mamma, can we not get a bone for Doge?" she asked.

"A bone?" asked Mamma, for she was not so accustomed to dogs.

"I have three Sickles," declared Amanita. "Is it enough for a bone?"

Mamma was very still and stared at her with great round eyes. Doge whined a little and lay down with his head on his paws. "Darling," said Mamma in a gentle voice, "if you buy a bone for the Doge, then you will have no money for sweets."

"I don't want sweets," she declared. "I want to get a bone for Doge."

At these words, Mamma smiled, but she also blinked her eyes. Amanita did not understand. Why was Mamma sad? Sometimes, grownups were very strange indeed.

Into the butcher's shop they went with Doge waiting very smartly outside, sitting up straight with his tail tucked carefully across his paws. Almost as stylish as an Italian dog, she thought. Mamma spoke with the butcher, who was a short, fat man with a jolly red face. Amanita was afraid of his loud voice, and the smell of raw meat in the shop was unpleasant. She took out her three Sickles and handed them to Mamma as the man cut a great bone from a hunk of meat. He wrapped it up in brown paper and tied it with a string before handing it to Mamma, who paid him. The price was more than three Sickles, but Mamma paid the rest.

Doge was still waiting for them. He stared at the brown paper parcel in Mamma's hand and made a little whining noise.

"Come down the lane, Doge," said Mamma. Dutifully, the big dog followed them into the lane. Mamma untied the string, set the parcel on the ground, and unwrapped the paper.

Doge came up to Amanita and licked her face. She screamed and laughed and hugged his neck.

"Amanita," said Mamma in disapproval. "You will get dirty."

"He says thank you," Amanita told her as Doge went to pick up the meaty bone with his teeth. He turned back to look at the two of them and wagged his tail vigorously before bounding off with his dinner.

Mamma knelt down on one knee and embraced Amanita. "Darling," she murmured, "I am immensely proud of you."

She hugged Mamma back, of course, but she did not understand. Another strange part of being a grownup, she supposed.

* * *

Settled in the faded armchair by the fire, Calyxa smiled her thanks as she accepted the cup of tea that Remus had poured for her. Taking evening tea had become a charming ritual for them over the months, and she seemed as if she belonged here in her rich brocade robes and elegant topknot of dark hair. _A glorious jewel in a very plain setting_, thought Remus with a wry smile. The return of Amanita had worried him at first, but the little girl's presence had not interrupted their usual dates, as Remus liked to think of their quiet evenings together. 

Having come to terms with the boundaries of their relationship, he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the time they had together, for it was very short and growing ever shorter. As they sat together that evening, he smiled at how animated Calyxa was as she told him a charming anecdote about something her daughter had done that day. Only half listening, he studied her and the way the firelight played across one side of her face. He didn't know what he was going to do when school finished for the summer. The best thing for him to do would be to make a clean break and not see her after she left Hogwarts. On the other hand, he had said farewell forever the last time they had parted because it was for the best. Or so he had thought at the time.

When she said a word that he did not quite understand, his musing was interrupted. "The doge?" he repeated. The word was distantly familiar to him.

"Doge. Ah, yes. She uses that name, I think, because it is spelled almost the same as _dog_. The Doge was the Muggle name for the ruler of the Most Serene Republic of Venice in olden times. Well, for some reason, she started calling the stray dog – you know that big black dog that is always somewhere underfoot? She started calling him Doge."

Remus felt a terrible icy wash of fear as if his blood had suddenly frozen.

"Today, she saw him, and instead of buying sweets with her money, she insisted on buying a bone for that dog. We had to go to the butcher and get something for him, and then do you know what the rascal dog did? He licked her face before taking the bone. She insisted he was thanking her. There was no complaint about missed sweets either. I must say that I am extraordinarily proud of her. Such unselfishness."

"What black dog?" he asked in a neutral voice.

"You must have seen the poor thing hanging about in the village," she said. "Very big and well-mannered. Almost seems to understand what one says..." Trailing off, she turned to stare at him. "What?"

He shook his head, not knowing what to say. Calyxa and the little girl often met a big black dog. In the village.

"Remus? What is it?" Her face had grown even paler than usual and her eyes widened. Somehow, she was able to perceive his grave concern. "Do you know something about that dog? Did he bite someone?"

"I... I'm not sure." He found it difficult to speak at all, for shock and fear were strangling him. He felt like he could not even breathe.

Her expression had become ghastly. "If there is some danger, you must tell me."

What to say? She was growing more frightened and agitated with every second of his silence, but he was too shocked to think clearly. Would Sirius harm the little girl?

"Remus," she urged, leaning forward in her seat and staring at him. "What is it?"

"I don't know." He rubbed his eyes. If he were cornered, was Sirius capable of hurting Amanita? Years ago, Remus would have said no, but now, he was not certain.

How to tell her, though? It would mean telling Dumbledore as well, something he just could not do. How disappointed the old man would be! Remus could not reveal his deceit; he could not bear to see how both of them, Calyxa and Dumbledore, would think less of him if he admitted that he had betrayed their trust and lied by omission.

Calyxa was watching him, her eyes soft, and her hand touched his arm. "There is nothing you can say that will change the man you are," she told him with that irresistible fondness in her glance. "I hope I am not so shallow that it will change my perception of you."

On the night of Sirius's attack, she had told him that she knew he was keeping something from Dumbledore, and for the briefest instant, he considered just telling her the truth and being done with it. The fleeting feeling evaporated but left a bitter taste. "I really don't know anything useful."

"_Potente Losna_." Calyxa was on her feet now, glaring at him and looking frightened at the same time. "This is not some game." Her usually slow, almost impeded way of speaking had become sharp and frigid as if each word was punctuated with an icicle. "I care nothing for your secrets, but you must tell me what you know."

He stared at her in shock. She was menacing, intimidating, despite her small stature. He knew he could not tell her the truth, but what to say to appease her, to calm her? The silence stretched out and he knew he had to say something. But what?

Now, she cursed at him in Italian. "I have always respected your desire to keep things secret, but you must tell me what you know. No matter what – I _have to_ know the truth."

For the first time in his life, he felt afraid of her. Not that he thought she would attack him, but because he had never seen her so angry. Always had she been a sweet little thing that made him feel protective, that made him feel strong and masculine. Now, he wondered if she was capable of violence, or something worse, in her desire to protect her daughter. He stood as well in an effort to reduce the uncomfortable feeling of being intimidated.

"I don't know anything useful," he replied, and his voice sounded calm and reassuring. "I think I heard that there was a stray dog that had been stealing chickens, but I don't remember exactly what it looks like."

She stared at him in disgust. "I advise you to reconsider telling the truth." She spoke formally, coldly. "You may not have another opportunity."

What was she threatening? It was as if they were standing on either side of a little chasm that was growing ever wider, and he had to decide if he would stay where he was or leap over to her side. It was not possible, however, to tell her the truth of his suspicions.

"Calyxa, please. You're overreacting," he replied calmly and with a touch of concern in his voice. "There is a small chance that the dog may be dangerous if it's the same dog, so you would do best to keep Amanita away from him. That's all there is to it."

Her eyes flashed and she stared at him as if she could see into his very soul. "If my child is harmed, if anyone is harmed because of your stubborn stupidity, I will never forgive you," she spat. "And you will have your own miserable conscience to live with."

With a swirl of her robes, she spun around and stalked to the door. She wrenched the door open and slammed it behind her, and then she was gone.

Remus stood staring at the door as a terrible, queasy feeling settled heavily in his gut. His instincts told him to go after her and say or do whatever was necessary to appease her, but he knew that she was too upset to listen to anything he said. He hated deceiving her and felt despicable for the bald-faced lies he had told. There was no question in his mind that she knew he was lying, and he couldn't imagine her ever forgiving him. Not without him telling the complete truth, something he could never do. Somehow, he knew that he had ruined their friendship for good this time by letting this come between them.

* * *

Of all the students who had ever attended Hogwarts, only Calyxa di Janarra had ever called him _Mister_ Hagrid. Letters from impersonal Ministry officials called him Mr. Hagrid; otherwise, only young Calyxa – now the Contessa di Janarra, he reminded himself – and that sweet little sprout of hers called him Mister Hagid. 

He remembered her as a student because, although she had been a quiet, little girl, she had a bit of an affinity for animals. The birds especially liked her, but not little songbirds as much as the raptors. In those days, the poor girl had been afraid of everything, it had seemed, but not the hawks and ravens that often bit the other students.

Her visit surprised him, for he knew that she had to make special arrangements before leaving the castle. She had to tell the headmaster where she was going and for how long. It was her job to detect Sirius Black, that murdering traitor, so it made sense that she let Professor Dumbledore know if she was going to be out. Hagrid wondered why she would go through the trouble of coming down to see him.

"I am sorry to trouble you." Calyxa was smiling. She declared his cottage charming, and she scratched Fang's head very vigorously before taking a seat in one of his rough chairs.

"It's an honor ter 'ave yer visit me, Contessa," he said as he set a plate of biscuits and a huge, steaming mug of tea in front of her. "Never seen a student that birds liked s'much as yeh."

"How extraordinarily kind of you to remember," she said with a smile.

"And the wee, tiny girl of yers. She's a fine girl, and she comes down with Signora Chalaza ter play with Fang two, three times a week. Little thing like her, an' she's got no fear of Fang." He shook his head in amazement. "Like you always were with that big old hawk tha' used ter sit with yeh. The seedlings don't sprout too far from the fluxweed, I reckon."

"I am lucky that she gets her courage from her father and not from me," she answered in a self-deprecating voice. "It is about her that I wish to speak with you. The truth is that she has been playing with a stray dog in the village. A very well-behaved dog. I think he is clever, for he seems to understand what one is saying."

"Hmmm. If it was a cat, I'd say he'd have a bit o' Kneazle in him."

"So..." She looked at him seriously. Worried. "You are not familiar with this dog?"

"Can't say I am," he told her. "But if yer little 'un likes him, he must be a fine dog. She's got sense, tha' one."

The little contessa picked up the mug of tea in both hands and swirled it. "She told me that the dog does not understand Italian. It is strange – I thought dogs understood one's tone instead of language."

"Yeah, tha's right. I wouldn't worry about it. Honestly, if tha' girl likes the dog, then he's a fine dog, yeh can rest assured."

Slowly, she nodded. "I had thought as you do; however, someone I would trust with my life told me that perhaps that dog was dangerous. He seemed very... _afraid_. There was some sense of untruthfulness in his words, though."

"Let me tell yeh this: if any dog was dangerous, yer little girl would know, sure enough. No question about it," he assured her.

"That is what I thought."

"Whatever trick your friend is trying ter play on yeh, don't yeh believe it."

For a long time afterwards, he wondered what he had said wrong. He had expected her to nod and maybe even thank him, but she did neither. Instead, she smiled at him a little, but she looked very sad. Like her heart was breaking.

* * *

Thanks to Vaughn, Phoenix, Clara Minutes, and Finrod the Faithful for help and advice. 


	14. In the Dungeons

Warning: alcohol abuse

**

* * *

Chapter 13: In the Dungeons**

Ever since he had heard the discussion of what had occurred between Ron Weasley and the contessa the night of Black's attack, Severus had been awaiting an opportunity to ask her about it. When they had dined with her friend in Hogsmeade, she had drunk a bit too much, which seemed to be a common occurrence with her when her daughter wasn't in residence. Her genteel reserve faded, and she became lively and talkative – and unguarded – at such times.

He had been able to get her to discuss the concept of "sharing memories" and had subtly probed her for information. She had been willing to talk, but he had not learned much that was useful. She had admitted that it took a lot of concentration and energy to do it properly and that she was not nearly as skilled as some of her Janarra "sisters", as she called the other witches of her clan. One of the Weasley twins had been bragging that she confided in him that the daughter was already learning how to do it. Calyxa confirmed this but had also said the child would not be able to perform that magic until she was older.

Overall, Severus was satisfied with the night's work. It had been a good beginning and one on which he was determined to build. In addition, that evening had provided much more entertainment than he had anticipated. Calyxa had been flirting with him and Lupin, and even Flitwick to a certain extent. He had to admit that he had enjoyed her performance. Who wouldn't have? She was brilliant and had looked very attractive, flushed with wine and incandescent with some ineffable quality. Lupin had been falling out of his chair in his desire to get near her, and when she kissed him, the pathetic werewolf had gone to pieces.

Actually, Severus had felt a sharp pang of compassion for Lupin at first, knowing what it was like to have a woman toy with his affections before pushing him away. He had learned to avoid making himself vulnerable to appealing females, something the foolish werewolf was obviously unable to do.

Almost as soon as he recognized it, his disgust twisted the weak feeling of compassion into hatred, anger, and bitterness. He hated Calyxa for using her feminine wiles so effectively, and he hated Lupin for succumbing to her so easily, and he hated himself most of all for feeling sorry for the idiot.

_Let's see her try something like that with Lucius_, he thought viciously. Of course, Lucius would never put up with such teasing. He would demand – and get – satisfaction from such a dangerous game. Lupin was a pathetic fool to let himself be used and toyed with that way.

Even as he thought it, he imagined that Calyxa was too clever to tease someone like Lucius. A woman of her experience would know that a pathetic excuse for a man like Lupin would let her get away with almost anything whereas Lucius would not. She had a talent for assessing men and knowing just how to deal with them. Severus wondered how she saw him and how she would deal with him if he made an overture towards her. He imagined she would perceive the type of woman that he liked and would use that knowledge to gain some kind of control, some kind of upper hand, over him. In his mind, he assumed that learning Sexual Magic had given her some kind of terrible ability to seduce and influence the men who fell victim to her snares.

Soon after that night, Calyxa came to him and asked if he had any time to tell her how the Wolfsbane potion was brewed.

The perfect opportunity – _she_ wanted to sit down and talk with _him_! "Certainly." His mind raced. "If you would be agreeable, let's finish up what I have left of Chateau Lafitte Rothschild this evening."

"You still have some?" she asked in surprise, smiling.

"I do," he replied. "I have a bit of paperwork that I need to deal with first. Would eight o'clock suit you?"

"Would it suit me? Certainly," she agreed.

He eyed her suspiciously. "You wouldn't be planning on arriving late, would you?"

She laughed in response. "Not at all. There is no need. A late arrival ensures that one has a captive audience. Any matter," she eyed him thoughtfully, "I cannot imagine you would be at all impressed with an entrance, and I am not to waste effort."

It was difficult to keep from making a sarcastic remark in response to that, but he managed to control his tongue and said something civil. As soon as he returned to his quarters, he opened the wine bottle to let it breathe. In addition, he had a less expensive, but still good quality, bottle of red wine, reasoning that after the first had been drunk, she wouldn't be able to determine the lesser quality as easily.

The lady arrived perfectly on time, and once she was settled in a chair with a glass in her hands, he began to describe the complicated method for brewing the Wolfsbane potion. Not once did her attention falter, nor did she ask any questions. She remained watching him and listening very intently. Not in all his years of teaching had anyone paid such undivided attention to his instructions, and he relished the feeling.

"Teach me to prepare it," she urged rather suddenly.

He frowned in response.

"Show me how," she repeated.

"Wolfsbane? It is a highly complex potion to make and very few wizards have mastered it. I don't teach such things."

"That is because you have never had a student like me," she countered.

His lip curled at her immodesty. It was her most unattractive trait.

"Oh, by _Losna_," she muttered, getting up to pace. "You _have_ never had a student like me, and all your grimaces and looks of distaste cannot change that. I have asked you for what I want. Now, it remains for you to answer yes or no."

He considered her, rubbing his lower lip with his index finger. "You ask a lot. No doubt you'll offer a lot in return."

She laughed. "I suppose you will not be satisfied with a kiss," she teased.

He froze. What did she mean? Was she laughing at him? Did she imagine he thought of her that way? Didn't she think he was in love with another woman?

It took him what seemed like an eternity to realize what she was talking about. He had once desired a kiss in exchange for a similar favor, but that had been a long, long time ago.

"I can provide something that you want," she continued. Meeting his eyes, she assessed him with a smug little smirk. "A complete translation of _La Saggezza delle Streghe_."

His breath stopped. Since he was a boy, he had been trying to obtain an English translation of the ancient Etruscan classic _The Wisdom of the Witches_. Years ago, she had realized it and tempted him by translating one chapter into English. "No such translation exists," he countered. "Unless you..." He looked at her questioningly.

"Not yet." She drained her glass and held it out for more. "If you invest your time in giving me what I want, then I shall invest time in giving you what you want."

He considered it as he refilled her wineglass. To translate the ancient text... it was far more work than teaching her to brew Wolfsbane potion. He would be in her debt, then. Most profoundly so. And he did not like to be in anyone's debt.

"Not quite a fair exchange." She spoke his thoughts. "Besides the chapter I did for you years ago, I have done some of the translation already to publish with research. I am due to end the student-based research in early May so that they can prepare for their examinations. Such employment shall keep me out of mischief."

Even if he was to be in her debt, he knew perfectly well that she would not hold it over him and demand something in return in the future. "Very well, but I shall expect you to do the work, same as any other student."

"I will not waste your time," she vowed.

The lessons began the following week. Despite his complicated feelings in the matter, Severus found the experience unique. She remembered everything he said, so nothing ever had to be repeated. It was remarkable, for she had no special aptitude for Potions. When she did actually ask a question, it was for clarification of something he said, which annoyed him because her questions indicated that he had not properly explained the procedure. As much as it galled him to admit it, she had been right: he had never had such a student. Her discipline and concentration in combination with her memory made his job remarkably easy.

Her memory. Interesting. What did her incredible memory and sharing memories have to do with the strange magic of the Janarra clan? She usually remained silent during the lessons and instead focused all her attention on his instruction. A way to get her to relax and talk was necessary, but he couldn't think of one at first.

The idea was a brilliant one, and as usually happened with such things, he never could quite recall how or when it occurred to him. He invested in quite a few nice bottles of wine and began to offer her a drink in the evening when she came for her lessons. Of course, she was delighted to drink with him and did not notice that he sipped one glass while repeatedly refilling hers.

Various stages of inebriation did nothing to affect her keen mind, so her work did not suffer; however, the wine relaxed her and loosened her usually reserved tongue so that she spoke candidly. Although he disliked chatter and idle talk, she often spoke of academic matters that interested him. It also gave him an opportunity to witness how her mind worked, how she reasoned things out, how she followed strings of logic.

At the end of April, some religious holiday of the Janarra drew Calyxa away from the school overnight, and when she returned, the child and nanny were with her. Before Christmas, Severus had paid little attention to the girl. Calyxa had mentioned, however, that Amanita had already begun learning the disciplines that were the basis of everything that the Janarra did. She was Janarra, as was the nanny. If he approached them correctly and with the right questions, he might be able to learn a lot.

At lunch, the child and nanny sat with Calyxa. He usually avoided the girl; however, he decided to make an overture to becoming better acquainted. It would not be difficult. The little girl talked rather excitedly so one could easily locate her by sound if she was in the vicinity. He planned his arrival and only had to loiter on the stairs for a few minutes before he heard them coming. Timing it perfectly, he climbed to the top of the stairs just ahead of them.

He turned at their approach. "Ladies," he said with a polite nod.

"Good day, Professor Snape," said Calyxa with a smile.

"How fortunate. I shall now have the honor of entering the Hall with three charming companions." He had rehearsed the sentence in an effort to sound as casual as possible although he knew very well that someone like Lucius would have spoken more smoothly.

All of them laughed, even the child, which made him feel instantly ridiculous. Stupid. He swore to never try something like that again.

As it happened, though, his effort paid off. Sitting between the child and the nanny at lunch, he talked with Amanita a little, which caused Calyxa to watch with an expression blending bemusement with warm affection. He knew that she was surprised at his taking the time and effort to be kind to the child, for he was not fond of children of any age, especially the noisy, tiresome age of four. On the other hand, Lupin sat on Calyxa's other side and monopolized her during most of the meal, which gave him the opportunity to speak privately with the child.

"Is it difficult when you practice sharing memories?" he asked the child when Calyxa was distracted by the werewolf.

"Do you mean _compartecipazione delle memorie_?" asked the little girl, stumbling over the long word. "I don't like it. It's hard and it makes my head hurt. I like the Memory Palace."

"The Memory Palace?" he asked. "What's that?"

"A place to keep memories. Mine is only little, but Mama's is very big. Papa can't do it. He said it's too neat for him, and he likes to be messy in his mind."

"So you mother has a big Memory Palace? How do you know it's very big?"

"I visit in that place sometimes. She builded the entrance like Grandpapa's entrance of his _palazzo_. It is too pretty."

"You visit your mother's Memory Palace?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes." She looked at him in confusion. "Don't you?"

He didn't know how to respond. "No, I don't have time," he said smoothly. "What do you do when you visit her Memory Palace?"

"I learn how to build mine. I took the same entrance hall like Grandpapa's house." She pushed her plate towards him. "Professor, will you cut more lamb chop, please?"

A flick of his wand set his knife to cutting her meat; Calyxa turned back to them at that point. "Darling, are you being polite to Professor Snape?"

"She is perfectly polite," he assured her as the knife finished cutting and settled down on the table. Although he was unable to continue questioning the child, he had learned enough for now.

As soon he had time, he went to the library and had Madam Pince help him find him any references to Memory Palaces. That night, he spent hours reading about the unusual Medieval mnemonic device. The secret to Calyxa's remarkable memory was obvious, but something was lacking in what he learned. How did a construct of one's mind that was used to aid memory provide a place where others could visit? Clearly, there was something that the texts could not tell him, and he knew that it was because the Janarra were different. But in what way?

* * *

With only a few weeks left in the school year, something happened. No one could say exactly when the row had occurred, but the frigid civility that developed between Lupin and Calyxa pleased and amused Severus tremendously. Whatever they had fallen out over was immaterial. The werewolf was absolutely wretched and pathetic, which Severus found delightfully entertaining. Calyxa still spoke to him with the same gracious reserve she used for everyone else, but the change from the close friendship, which most of the staff had mistakenly assumed was a love affair, was dramatic. 

Even more, old Filch, who had developed an odd protective liking for Calyxa, now treated Lupin as if he were a criminal. The whole situation was immensely enjoyable for Severus.

The school year was coming to an end, and Calyxa had admitted that she was heartily sick of the noise and disorder of the students. She had wrapped up most of her research a few weeks earlier so as not to distract the students from preparing for their examinations. The Weasley twins still came to her office despite having to prepare for their O.W.L.s, but Severus imagined that the aspiring Lotharios were not interested in research as much as the lady's sordid reputation.

The first lesson after her row with Lupin, she could not concentrate. Schooling himself to not grow annoyed at her restlessness, he simply poured the wine and watched her agitated pacing. It was obvious that nothing would be accomplished that night.

After ten minutes and as he poured her third glass, she sat down on the other side of his desk and picked up the flat whetstone he used to sharpen his instruments. "I am glad to see that you use this," she remarked. "I had forgotten about it."

He said nothing. There was really nothing for him to say. She fidgeted with the stone for a while and then set it down and picked up her glass. The hostility between her and Lupin must have discomposed her more than it had originally seemed. After just a sip, she set the glass down again.

"_Losna_." She rubbed her hands over her face. "Severus... what is going to happen if they do not catch Sirius?"

"That is a question for the headmaster, I think." Since they were not actually working, there was time, and he considered how to turn the conversation to his advantage. "Why did you go out with him?"

"With Sirius?" she asked. "Well... he was very dear to me."

"Yet you turned him down when he asked you to the dance," he reminded.

A slow smile spread across her face. "Yes, I recall. He was awful then. I think I was afraid of him."

He recalled her turning down Black very politely when the arrogant prat deserved contempt. "And then you did something I would have thought impossible. That I have never seen anywhere else."

She frowned at him, not comprehending. "Do you mean the song? The project that Remus and I presented for Charms?"

"No, of course not," he sneered. "Useless idiocy. I am referring to the ritual you performed. The ritual of the dead that I participated in."

A little nostalgic smile touched her lips. "You remember that?"

"It is something that would be hard to forget," he said honestly. In fact, it was the root of his obsession with the Janarra clan and their special type of magic. The image of her holding a swirling sphere of light and then drawing that light inside her was seared onto his memory. And after that, a memory so powerful that he rarely allowed it into his conscious mind, she had embraced him and the others, and the light had been inside all of them as well…

"It was the first time that I performed a ceremony alone. Without my mother."

Of course. Less than a year after the event in question, she had lost her mother, he remembered and sought to steer her away from the melancholy memories. "Do you know how Lupin is helping Black?" he asked her. "To get into the castle, I mean?"

The question confused her. "Pardon me?" Although she did not slur her words, her accent was stronger.

"How is Lupin helping Black? You must have some idea."

She shook her head at him. "No. You are mistaken. Remus knows nothing. He thinks he might kill Sirius if he must."

He sighed in disappointment. No doubt, it was the truth as she saw it. Nothing useful would be gained from her about this. On the other hand, she could be mistaken. She was certainly mistaken about him trying to make someone jealous.

Or was she? The mistake that she had made was to jump to the wrong conclusion: that he was trying to make a witch jealous. A female. Of course, she had correctly perceived that he wanted to be seen with her to make someone envious, but that someone had been Lucius, and it had worked beautifully.

A change of subject was definitely needed, and he decided to steer the conversation in another useful direction. "When will your daughter be able to do such things?"

She looked at him with raised brows and considered him for several long seconds. He felt a bit uncomfortable and topped off her glass even though it wasn't empty. "Does your lady have children?" she asked. "Is that why you are getting to know Amanita?"

The question startled him. How could someone so brilliant and intuitive be so misguided about his motivations?

"Forgive me. I attempt to invade your privacy at every turn, but I mean it in a kindly way." She looked into her glass and swirled the wine. "I know what it is like to want someone that I cannot have."

What an interesting thing to say. Although she was short and not particularly pretty, she had an air, an elegance, a... something. A disarming quality. An appearance of ease and comfort in all situations. An absolute confidence. Knowing her, it was probably something learned rather than natural, not that it mattered. The net result was that it was hard to imagine that there was a man she couldn't have. On the other hand, if she wanted declarations of undying love, which not all men were willing to make, she might be disappointed. Whatever she meant, he wondered for whom she was pining. The knowledge could prove useful in the future.

"Amanita will not be capable of performing a ceremony for many years," she said. "The onset of menses is when girls may start wielding that power. The ability to create life is a powerful thing as well."

What she said made sense: puberty was when young witches and wizards could learn some of the most powerful types of Old Magic, and it fit with her theory of cyclical time. Unfortunately, her frank mention of intimate subjects made him uncomfortable. "Can't men participate in such things?" he asked.

"Certainly. The men of the Janarra are very powerful in Ancient Magic. My father and even my former husband are both very adept indeed."

"Why is it then that we only ever hear about Janarra witches?"

Having raised her glass for a sip, her eyes flew to his over the rim, and she swallowed before answering. "Because our Goddess is female."

Not since they were teenagers had he felt such contempt for her and such disgust for her ancient religion. "Is that a _modern_ interpretation?" He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

She studied him for a moment as if trying to decide how to answer him. "If you think about it, the metaphor is an appropriate one. She is the mother of all monthly cycles."

No one else in the world took such ease in discussing subjects of a personal nature; nevertheless, he controlled his discomfort. This was the second time in as many minutes that he had found himself uncomfortable with something that made sense. Was there some key here that would unlock the secrets of the Janarra?

"Our cousins, the Tanarra, worship a male God," she informed him, "and they have many more males than females. They are patriarchal."

"Their magic is practically useless," he retorted and regretted it immediately.

"Useless?" She looked aghast at his blasphemy. "You evaluate magic based on how useful it is to you personally?"

"I don't mean to be disrespectful," he assured her. "I am merely curious."

The way she eyed him spoke volumes of her skeptical view of that comment. "The Tanarra draw their magic from the stars, a source of power far greater than anything else of which we know."

"But too far away," he pointed out.

She drank her wine and considered it. "No. The distance is necessary. Without it, they would have to deal with Wild Magic unlike anything we have encountered, and it would be extremely dangerous."

Reaching to refill her glass, he asked, "What is the difference between Wild Magic and Old Magic?" The bottle was empty, so he got up to fetch and uncork another.

"You will do well to read _La Saggezza delle Streghe_. I shall give you the bits that I have completed." She turned in her chair to continue the discussion. "Wild Magic, such as we use, is very dangerous and hard to control. Our ancestors slowly developed their methods over eons. There is no limitation to what can be done, but like children playing with complicated potions, there is much that we do not understand. We must experiment very slowly and carefully."

Severus stood very still with the new wine bottle in his hand. "So the other clans do not undertake Wild Magic?"

"No." She smiled. "And historically, females handle Wild Magic whereas males do not. In general, men have a predilection for trying to control magic, for trying to force it, to bend it to their will. You have seen young brutes attempting to create useful potions."

"Every day," he sighed.

"Yes, well, then you know that such things rarely work effectively. Especially with Ancient Magic. Never with Wild Magic. It seems that girls have more of a natural inclination for the delicate touch. My brother did not really find the ability until after he was thirty years of age!"

"Thirty?"

"And he was learning it all his life." She smiled with a wicked glint in her eyes. "And you will not learn much that is useful from Amanita."

He froze but managed to keep his expression neutral. She _knew_? She knew and had said nothing?

"Borodin is much more acclimated to such things," she went on, "but he has a gentle touch in all things. Well, almost all things."

Although he was very relieved that she had not said more about his attempts to learn secrets from the daughter, Severus frowned. Was she still in love with Prince Borodin? No, she had mentioned wanting a wizard whom she couldn't have, and a husband, or ex-husband, didn't exactly fit the description. It wasn't Lucius, whom she detested, nor Lupin who panted after her in desperation. It had to be someone else, someone in London.

Too bad. Drunk or not, there was no way, really, to weasel it out of her and no way to know if it would be useful information. On the other hand…

"The prince is not the one you meant earlier, was he?" he asked.

"Borodin?" she laughed. "By no means. I am relieved to be rid of him."

"I am sorry. It is not easy to imagine that there is a wizard whom you cannot have."

At that statement, she looked at him with an odd expression that he could not define. To his horror, he saw tears dribble from her eyes. "I think that is the sweetest thing you have ever said to me," she remarked in a whispery voice.

She got up from her seat and came around the desk to embrace him. It was awkward because he was sitting in his desk chair; he stood up as well, and she reached up to kiss his cheek. Her face was wet with tears, which he found revolting.

"Thank you for talking with me. For giving me something else to think about." She was smiling at the same time as tears flowed from her eyes, and her voice was almost normal. "I shall go now. I am sorry for wasting your time, but thank you."

He frowned at her. "Perhaps a good night's sleep would be best for you."

"I think you are right," she sighed.

He escorted her to the door. "I will not forget that you have promised me the parts of _La Saggezza delle Streghe_ that you have finished translating."

She laughed then, a real laugh. "I would expect no less."

When she was gone, he returned to his desk, he sat down and finished the rest of his drink in one gulp. "Wild Magic," he said aloud.

* * *

The usual thanks go to Vaughn, Phoenix, Clara Minutes, and Finrod the Faithful. 


	15. The Contessa and the Convict

Note: _mio caro_ my dear

Warning: very strong language

**

* * *

Chapter 14: The Contessa and the Convict**

The warning from Calyxa was brief but imperative, so with a pace even brisker than usual for him, Albus Dumbledore hurried from his office to the oaken doors at the entrance of the castle. She was waiting for him, looking terribly pale and frightened and twisting her hands together.

"Are you certain?" he asked her without preamble.

"Yes," she replied a bit breathlessly.

He nodded and looked at her very seriously. "I will need you before this night is over. Can you stay close without being seen?"

"_Can_ I?" she asked, looking surprised. "Certainly."

"Good. Stay close but out of sight."

She seemed relieved, moved off towards the other side of the entrance hall, and was soon lost in shadow

He did not have long to wait. Severus soon arrived with four stretchers bearing the unconscious forms of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Sirius Black. They all appeared to be injured, and Sirius had been bound and gagged.

"Let's take them down to the hospital wing," Albus said, gesturing to the corridor on the right.

If he was surprised that the headmaster was waiting for them, Severus did not show it. "Really, sir, I think it would be prudent to see Black safely locked up first."

"I hardly think that he is going to regain consciousness, find a way out of his bonds, and overcome both you and me," Albus replied and flicked his wand at the stretchers to start them moving down the corridor. "You need to be seen to as well, Severus," he added in a gentler tone.

Although he did not see or hear her, Albus was vaguely aware of Calyxa's presence while he dealt with the situation at hand, but she remained silent while following. When he left Severus and the students in Poppy's care, Calyxa trailed him up to the seventh floor, when he escorted the now-conscious Sirius to Filius's office, but she still remained unseen. It made him smile a little and recall the late Contessa. _Peziza would be proud of her_, he thought as he remembered the shrewd Italian witch with the angelic smile.

After he had had a chance to talk to Sirius, he finally sought Calyxa. Few words were necessary. "We haven't much time," he told her in a low voice as he began to lead her down the hall.

"What must I do?" she asked very calmly.

"Look at his memory and see what really happened."

This response seemed to surprise her. "What benefit will it provide?"

"If circumstances warrant," he explained as they continued down the corridor, "it may be the only real evidence to save him from a Dementor's Kiss."

She stopped walking. Her words, when they came, were spoken with difficulty. "You cannot ask that of me."

"This is no time for a discussion, as well you know," he chided rather severely. "A man's life is at stake."

"No discussion is necessary," she retorted. "I cannot endanger those for whom I am responsible, not for any reason."

He merely raised his brows.

"In order to use that information as a legal defense, they will insist on documenting – "

"Think on this," he interrupted. The good-natured twinkle was gone from his eyes, and he gazed coolly at her. "What if it was Amanita, and not Sirius, who was facing this?"

Her response was immediate. "You cannot manipulate me that way," she replied with an indignant glare.

He had expected her to show some kind of reluctance; in fact, this strength pleased and impressed him. Unfortunately, it was misplaced at the moment.

"You are your mother's daughter," he said honestly. "All I am asking you to do is see him and collect the memories. There is _no time_ for discussions and decisions. Afterwards, I cannot compel you to use the information. Just see him now while you can so that you have the option later. I can assure you, he would do the same for you if the situation was reversed." Without waiting for her reply, he took her firmly by the arm to escort her.

There was a few seconds of silence before she responded. "Will he cooperate?" she asked.

"He will. I have told him I was going to bring you." They were nearly there. "I believe he is deeply distressed that you will see him in the state he's in, but we've no time for niceties. Prepare yourself. He has changed a great deal from the boy you knew."

"I would be shocked if he had not after all those years in prison," she replied. "And I have seen him, at least in young Ron Weasley's memory, if you remember. I am quite ready."

"You must guard your reaction and not let any shock show on your face," he warned. If there was anyone alive who could do such a thing, it was she.

"I understand, Professor."

"One last thing," he continued. "I seem to remember that you were friends, that you held some affection for him when you were students."

"Well," she began reluctantly, "we were very young and rather silly."

"My dear lady," he said softly, "the years with the dementors have altered all his happy memories, all his feelings of warmth and tenderness. If you ever cared for him, don't hesitate to show him. He is starving for more than food. This is something that you can give him that I cannot."

The contessa made no reply; she was thinking.

Albus unlocked the door and preceded her into the office. "We have very little time," he said for both of them to hear. Sirius was standing back in the deepest shadows as the contessa entered. "Let us keep things to a bare minimum."

"Hello, Sirius," said Calyxa evenly with a polite smile.

"Calyxa." He did not move from where he was mostly hidden in shadow.

She seated herself on one of the chairs. "I think it would be best if you kneel upon the floor," she said in a gentle but professional tone.

"Here." Albus conjured a cushion at her feet. Sirius was obviously reluctant to move out of the shadows and let the lady see him, but Albus drew him out into the light before helping him ease his bony frame down on it. He stared at her, his sunken eyes glittering in his wasted, waxy face. If the lady felt any shock or discomfort, she showed none of it. She smiled sweetly and reached to take his hands.

"My hands are filthy," he insisted, and Albus saw, for an instant, a flash of the privileged young man he had once been.

"I do not mind," she told him, gently grasping his clawlike hands. "I can wash my hands when we are done, and so can you." Her voice held the soft music of humor and warmth.

He blinked and regarded her wide-eyed, the visible pulse in his throat beating rapidly. The lady did not appear to notice anything untoward in his appearance and smiled at him as she did at all men.

"Now, you need to relax and show me your memories. Do not fight it. Let me in. It will be a strange feeling but not unpleasant."

He nodded and drew in a long breath. Leaning forward slightly, she gazed at him. The connection was made, and she was with him. Together, they watched the memories as Albus waited. Sirius's jaw tightened and his brows drew together; the lady grew paler.

Albus paced to the door and looked into the hallway, but there was nothing there. He came back and still the two were locked eye to eye, Sirius looking grim and angry and Calyxa looking concerned and compassionate.

"You see," muttered Sirius. "That fucking bastard."

"I see," she replied in a near-whisper.

It continued for a while longer, and then the contessa gasped.

"That's enough." Sirius tore his gaze away to break the contact and drew his hands out of hers. He was trembling and looked to be in pain. "I didn't mean for you to see that." He sat back on his heels.

For a second, she sat staring at him with compassion and concern. She glanced at Albus and then slipped down to the floor and drew Sirius into her arms. "_Mio caro_," she murmured, embracing his thin form.

There was only a second of confused hesitation and no chance of resistance: his arms gripped her tightly and a strangled cry was torn from his throat.

"Darling," she whispered, petting his filthy, matted hair. Over his shoulder, she looked at Albus again, and the old wizard nodded encouragingly. "Sirius? Do you remember our waltz?" she asked. "At the Halloween dance?"

"Waltz?"

"You told your brother that we were to be married and that he would not be invited to the wedding," she informed him with amusement in her voice.

He drew back a little and frowned down at her. "Were you wearing white robes?" he asked slowly as he concentrated on the memory.

A lovely smile spread across her face. "You remember."

"Now I do," he admitted.

"Then during Christmas holidays, my mother allowed me to visit you. The ball. Your horrid cousins." She chuckled. "And when we were walking in the snow. Kissing while your brother was spying on us."

"Kissing," he repeated with a frown, speaking more to himself than to her. "I thought that I had imagined that."

"How flattering," she laughed.

He smiled a little as well, a ghostly, melancholy thing. "I don't recall any other kisses."

Tears stung her eyes making her blink and glance away. Albus wondered how painful it must be for her to actually show such emotion after playing the role of the coquettish contessa so well.

When she looked back at Sirius, she was smiling, and she drew down his head to kiss him upon his pale, dead-looking lips. Even Albus had not expected it. Sirius remained still, and when the lady eased away from him, he stared at her.

There was no more time. Severus would be here soon with Fudge, no doubt, and there was much to do before then. "We must go," Albus told them. "We have stayed too long already." He took the contessa by the arm and helped her to rise.

"Yes, of course," said Sirius, getting up stiffly.

"It may be that we shall not again meet," she said, looking at Sirius with a tiny smile of sadness and pure love, and the resemblance to her mother at that moment stunned Albus. "But this bittersweet memory will remain with you, dementors or no."

"I think you might be right." He cleared his throat. "Princess…"

Her head snapped up, and they stared at each other. Albus looked at each of them very thoroughly. Another minute might mean a tragic ending to the evening. Unless they could arrange some kind of… obstacle that would delay the minister's arrival.

There was a long silence while Sirius struggled to find the right words. "Are you and Remus married?" he finally asked, looking hopeful. Almost pleading. "He didn't say. There wasn't time." He licked his dry lips. "That little girl with the blue eyes – she's his daughter, isn't she?" It was if he desperately wanted to hear something good, something wonderful.

At first, Calyxa could not respond, so she merely shook her head as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Then she cleared her throat. "No. No to both."

"You've got…" He trailed off, stunned. "You married _someone else_?"

"Yes, but I have been divorced."

He stood frowning at her. "I know it might be hard for a fine lady like you, but if you could kiss me, then you could certainly overlook something as trivial as his secondhand robes."

The tears that had appeared in her eyes before spilled over her lashes onto her cheeks. As she raised her hand to brush them away, she nodded and smiled.

"Well, there's the wolf thing, as well."

"Calyxa," interrupted Albus. "We must go. I'm sorry, Sirius, but further reunions must be saved for another day."

Quickly, she embraced the tall wizard again and kissed his face. "The Lady Losna shall watch over you."

"Calyxa, keep half an eye on Harry for me if you get a chance."

"Harry?"

"He's my godson," Sirius explained.

"Very well. I shall."

And they were gone, hurrying away from the locked office. "Well done, my dear," murmured Albus as they moved quickly down the stairs. "I don't think your mother could have done better."

A smile of surpassing sweetness appeared on her face. "How kind of you to say so," she said in a wavering voice.

"Wait a moment." He drew out his wand and cast a cleaning spell on her to remove the grime from her hands, face, and robes where she had touched Sirius.

She looked down at her hands and saw that they were clean again, as were her sleeves and the front of her robes. "Sir, what is going to happen to him?"

"I cannot say right now. We shall see." He looked at her with a frown. "Whatever happens... well, your job here is done, and I thank you. You have done more than you can imagine, my dear."

"No," she sighed. "It was nothing, really. I only wish there was something more I could do for that poor man." She shook her head and looked at the headmaster with saddened eyes. "It is difficult to see him like that."

"Yes, I know." They descended the stairs together very rapidly. "There is no time now. I must go, and I need you to delay Severus. Do you know Cornelius Fudge?"

"A little," she replied.

"I know you can play your role to perfection, but you cannot allow Severus to know what has occurred here. Not now. Not yet." He stopped and looked at her very seriously with his brows drawn together. "Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, sir. He will have no idea that I have seen Sirius." She met his eyes, looking pleased, confident, and almost predatory. As if she were enjoying this.

"Good," he sighed in relief. "Delay them as long as possible. Even a few seconds may make a difference."

"I can give you five minutes at least," she assured him with a mischievous little smile.

Five minutes? It was more than enough and far more than he expected. No, he had not been wrong about her, he knew. "Excellent. We shall speak later tonight when all this is done." With a nod, he left her at the foot of the stairs to lie in wait for her prey.

* * *

Thank you to beta readers Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes. Special thanks to Finrod the Faithful for the very necessary "guy's eye view". 


	16. One Last Favor

**Chapter 15: One Last Favor**

Although they had sat up with Minerva long into the night discussing what had occurred, Albus Dumbledore did not doubt that Calyxa was up as early as usual. Therefore, he knocked on the door to her private quarters quite early, secure in the knowledge that he would not be waking anyone up.

Calyxa opened the door almost immediately, laughing and looking as if she were in good spirits. "Professor!" she cried, growing instantly serious. "Is something wrong? Is it Remus?"

Behind her, Amanita and Signora Chalaza stopped what they were doing and fell silent.

"No, not at all. Professor Lupin is just fine."

"Thank Losna," she breathed. Her smile returned. "Come in, sir. We are just getting our luggage ready, so please ignore the disorder."

He entered the sitting room, where the ladies were indeed in the midst of packing. Clothes and trunks were everywhere, and piles of books and rolls of parchment covered much of the floor. "I am sorry to interrupt, ladies."

"Good morning, Professor," greeted Signora Chalaza with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Professor," echoed Amanita. "Have you any sweets?" she added hopefully.

"Darling, it is too early for sweets," chided Calyxa gently. "You go on and get your dolls ready while I speak with the professor."

"Yes, Mamma," said the child. "But, Professor, will you come and visit me at my house?"

"Amanita," said the contessa with quiet disapproval, "you know that is not the proper way to extend an invitation."

"I'm sorry." The little girl came closer and looked up at the ancient wizard. "Professor, I would be honored if you would visit at my house."

"I would be delighted, Miss di Janarra," he said with a smile.

"Yay!" She clapped her hands in glee.

"Now, come and see to your toys," said Signora Chalaza in a no-nonsense tone that sent the child off immediately.

"Please, Professor, sit down," said Calyxa. "I am sorry about that. She is very excited about going home."

"As I can see," he remarked with a smile.

"Tell me, please, how is Remus? Truly?" she asked rather anxiously.

"A bit worse for wear, but nothing serious," he assured her. "But he has submitted his resignation. Effective immediately."

At first, she looked startled; however, she considered it with a frown, and Albus knew that the news did not really surprise her.

"How soon can you be ready to leave?" he asked her.

The dramatic segue caused her to frown and blink. "Have we worn out our welcome?" she quipped, but he could see her frown and knew she perceived his urgency.

"My dear lady!" he laughed. "Not at all. No, I ask because Remus intends to leave today. This afternoon."

"Today?" she repeated in surprise.

"Yes. It seems as though Severus let slip the secret of his condition this morning, and now all the school knows."

Scowling, Calyxa said something under her breath that sounded like an unpleasant Italian epithet.

"I had no choice but to accept his resignation. There is terrible fear and prejudice against werewolves, and I have no doubt that many parents will send owls of complaint."

"Yes, certainly there will be, and Severus knew it." She looked at him directly as if she was challenging him to reprimand the Potions master.

Albus nodded but made no comment. "I have also taken the liberty of extracting one last favor from him, and that is where you fit into all this."

"I will do what I can," she assured him.

"I have asked him to escort you back to London. He was very reluctant to agree and claimed that you and he are not on good terms."

"That is true," she sighed. "I told you that he was not telling all that he knew. You see, Amanita used to play with a stray dog in the village. I know now that Remus concluded that it was Sirius, only he would not tell me at that time. We quarreled bitterly over it and have not spoken other than civilities since then."

A smile spread slowly across his face. This news cheered him, for he had feared that the lovers had separated for good. "I am glad to hear it was not something more than that."

"It was enough," she retorted.

"Now, to the matter at hand," he went on. "All he wants is to be alone. Probably to wallow in misery, which is understandable."

"Sir, he most certainly wants to leave and become anonymous," she told him looking quite worried. "To erase himself from our lives."

"Yes, and that is why I persuaded him to escort you home. I thought perhaps the time together could ease things between you."

Calyxa raised her eyebrows and regarded him with a shrewd expression. "I can imagine what tactics you resorted to in this so called 'persuading'," she remarked. "I have ever said that you have the capacity for the criminal mind."

He chuckled. "Yes, I do remember you saying that." Then he grew sober and gazed at her somewhat seriously, but his eyes were twinkling. "Will you go with him? Of course, I have left him with the impression that you are a group of helpless ladies that need his aid."

"Yes, I can play that role rather well," she sighed, "but I cannot imagine that he will be in any mood to tolerate being with a small child for that long. I expect he would like to sit silently."

It was something that Albus had not considered. "Yes, I see what you mean," he mused. "He seems fond of her, though. Perhaps some time with her will cheer him a bit."

"You have seen him," she replied. "Not I. Do you really believe he is in the state of mind to appreciate such a thing?"

"Probably not." His mind raced. Remus was certainly in no state to Apparate let alone to sit in a train compartment with Amanita for several hours. "Perhaps a Disillusionment Charm or two would do the trick."

"Or three," she considered. "Very well. I shall agree to go with him. Professor, we must finish packing – an enormous task. We shall need assistance from one of the house-elves. And I must say my farewells. When did you say he is leaving?"

"This afternoon."

"Not much time at all," she sighed. "Well, let me be about it, then, sir. Would you be so kind as to send a house-elf to me? Once she is set to her task, I shall make my farewells. Would you also mention these plans to Mr. Filch and ask him if he could assist me in my office in about a half-hour? And perhaps you could ask the Messieurs Weasley to come along in an hour."

A satisfied smile appeared on the old wizard's face. He knew he could depend on her! "I'll do so right away."

* * *

As Remus headed towards the castle's main doors, he found his pace slowing. Although he did not consider himself a coward, he dreaded facing Calyxa, especially now. All he wanted was to curl up in a secret place and lick his proverbial wounds; he had no choice, though, he could not refuse Dumbledore this last request. It certainly would cost him nothing but effort and a few hours of time. Now, he had all the time in the world; nevertheless, he was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. 

When he actually came out into the yard where the carriage was waiting, he saw Calyxa directing the driver on securing several trunks on top. The door stood open, and Amanita and Signora Chalaza were already sitting inside.

The moment was surreal. With a glance up at the castle, Remus recalled another day, another waiting carriage, another departure, and the words that had haunted him for seventeen years: _You are the best friend I have ever had._

"No time for that now," he muttered to himself before continuing over to Calyxa. "Is that all yours?" he asked in an attempt at a light tone as he approached her.

She turned to him with eyes bright and expression warm. "No, some of it is being sent tomorrow."

"Will you hand that up here, sir?" called the driver.

Remus held out his grindylow tank to Calyxa. "Would you take this for a moment?"

"Of course." She took it with both hands so he could hand his battered suitcase up to the man.

"Thank you." As he took the tank from Calyxa, he did not look at her. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to see you home," he told her. "I'm probably the last person you want to travel with, and I don't think I'll be such good company on the journey."

She smiled and shook her head. "None of that matters. I thank Losna that you are alive and not seriously injured."

A tiny spark of hope warmed his insides. The events of the last day had left him feeling physically weary, emotionally exhausted, bruised and battered both inside and out. Though he could not manage much enthusiasm, he thought that perhaps she had forgiven him. He still felt like hiding in a cave, but at least this was a promising turn of events.

"I am glad you are actually speaking to me," he admitted. Knowing her gift for perceiving what he was thinking and feeling, he didn't try to hide the hope and relief that mingled with the pain and despair.

"Ah, Remus," she sighed, and then reached up to kiss him. Standing on her toes, she kissed his jaw because he was too surprised to lean down to her.

"Thanks," he said, wishing he felt a little better but basking in the warm glow that was spreading through him. He was so incredibly exhausted, and all he wanted was to sit in silence; however, that comforting warmth afforded him a little bit of soothing: he now knew with certainty that she understood why he had lied and had forgiven him completely.

"Let us go, then," she said, and turned to climb into the carriage.

He followed Calyxa into the carriage and said hello to Amanita and Signora Chalaza. There was quiet as they began to move down the road to the gates, and his mind slipped backwards a little. It seemed as if Calyxa and the Janarra had always existed in his life, just as the wolf had always been part of him. Before he had even met Calyxa, he had seen the late Contessa di Janarra, the Princess Peziza di Janarra Venier di Venezia. How long it had been since he had thought about those days? Years and years. Maybe he had never consciously recalled it.

Now as the gentle rocking motion of the carriage lulled him, he closed his eyes and remembered that sunny September day when he and his mates had been lounging about outside the castle, and he saw Professor Dumbledore walking with two unfamiliar people...

* * *

The elderly wizard and witch who walked with the Headmaster were both dressed in unusual, foreign-looking robes. The man was of average height and looked elegant in simple robes of deep brown in some rich material matched by a small, square hat. A simple chain of heavy gold links bearing a round pendant hung round his shoulders. 

The lady was petite, yet she stood so straight with such regal posture that she seemed taller. Her heavy brocade robes were dark gray and embroidered with silver, and instead of a hat, her grey hair was woven up into elaborate coils, like a crown. Even from a distance, her face was soft and kind except for striking black eyebrows that did not match the grey hair.

Remus could not keep from staring at her. Something very powerful seemed to be tugging at his insides. He felt like going to her, throwing himself down at her feet and worshipping her. There was fear, though – prickling cold terror. He would lose control if he went near her. She would see him with her eyes and would see him, see inside his heart and mind, see his secret thoughts, his unspeakable fears, his shameful wants, his deepest hopes... She would catch him with the bright web of her glance, and he would obey her every whim.

Wanting to go to her, he was frozen and only watched from afar, barely registering the others with her.

* * *

As usual, thank you to beta readers Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes. Special thanks to Finrod the Faithful for the very necessary "guy's eye view" and to Memory for help with Italian language and customs.

Author's note: Let's leave Remus and Calyxa now with the image of them sitting in warm, companionable silence in the privacy of a Disillusioned train compartment. It's a long trip for them, and now is the time to hear the backstory.


	17. What Dumbledore Saw

**Chapter 16: What Dumbledore Saw**

_September 1976_

Five years had passed since he had last seen Peziza di Janarra, and Albus Dumbledore wondered if the business that brought her to Hogwarts was making her ill. From where he sat across the desk from her and her husband, Prince Alvise Venier, the serene witch seemed too old and frail for her age

"Our daughter, Calyxa, is now fifteen years old," explained the Contessa di Janarra in a cultured, dulcet voice that soothed his ears. "Along with all the women of my line, she has the usual abilities and weaknesses, and we have prepared her all her life for adulthood, but there is something more with her. She suffers terribly. It is exceptionally painful for her."

"We do not wish to see our child suffer this and shall do anything to spare her," continued Prince Alvise. "It is thus that we must beg you to accept her as your student. Already she is very skilled at this, and there is little more we can teach her of our old ways. It is to you that we turn, for there is no one alive who knows more about such things as you do. Please, sir, teach our child to protect herself. You may judge the value of this yourself."

The headmaster regarded them with a slight frown. As much as he liked and admired Peziza, Prince Alvise had always annoyed him, and that pompous little speech only served to irritate him. "It is highly unusual, as you are well aware," he began. "It would not be easy for her to adjust to life here when the other students her age have been together for five years."

"It cannot be worse than what she now suffers," said Peziza with a plea for help in her eyes.

Dumbledore thought it over. The idea of a child suffering the horrors that she had described stirred his instinct to help, and he knew it was almost impossible for anyone to say no to the contessa. "Let me speak with her before I make the decision."

The Italian witch and wizard shared a look, and some wordless communication passed between them. "Certainly," she said with a smile of gratitude. "We shall withdraw and send her in so that you may speak with her privately."

He waited only for a short time before the girl entered and approached the desk. "Good day, sir," she said in precise English.

"Welcome, Miss di Janarra," he greeted. "Please sit down." As she took a seat, he studied her for a moment. Very much like her mother at that age she was, but also different. Her absolute stillness was disturbing, and the huge, dark eyes in the pale face seemed to see everything and yet nothing.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Calyxa," he said pleasantly. "I have known your mother for many, many years."

"It is an honor to be in your presence, sir," she replied with great formality, pronouncing each word exquisitely.

He chuckled a little. "Yes, you are certainly the daughter of Prince Alvise and the contessa. Is your brother like you?"

"I think not, sir," she answered quite seriously. "He is more forward than I am."

"I hope that I shall get the chance to meet him one day." Now that the pleasantries were over, he frowned at her. "I believe that your parents have told you why you are here. Do you believe that spending a year here will be beneficial?"

There was a pause as she formulated her reply. "Yes, sir. I think that a week of studying with you would be beneficial."

Honest, she was, honest and not seeking to flatter. Too serious, too pale, too… mature for one so young. He wondered if being among the other students would be good for her, spending time with other young people her own age away from both the Court of Venice and the Stregheria.

"I know something of the pain you have had to endure. My question is if you think you would be able to adjust to living here. It will be quite a change from what you're accustomed to."

Again she paused to phrase her answer. "I am afraid and do not want to stay here," she admitted, "but I cannot go on as I was."

"And do I cause you any pain?"

She smiled then. It was more of a grin, and she brightened up, looked more like her mother. "No, sir. You are very strong and gentle. Very beautiful. _Very_ beautiful. It is nice."

Had anyone ever referred to him as beautiful before? He chuckled at the thought. "Perhaps you can tell me a bit more about the pain. Do you know what causes it?"

Silently, she regarded him, her mind working. "I think so," she said slowly. "At first, it was everyone. Even _gli sconosciuti_." She blinked and paused for a second. "Pardon me. I should say strangers."

He nodded encouragingly.

"The strangers, I could feel their emotions. Sometimes it was fine, but sometimes the emotions were bad. When I told my mother, she understood what was happening. The _Strega_ with the most skill in the Memory Palace began to tutor me in defensive measures. It eased the pain a bit. I have gained some ability to protect my mind and my emotions from strangers. I have not been able to help myself when I am near my family or close friends."

"Your mother told me of a certain incident with your brother," said Dumbledore.

"Yes," she sighed. "Marin is older than I am and is scheduled to be married next year. He had quarreled with his wife… that is, his wife who will be." She scowled a little, for she did not know the correct word.

"You mean his fiancée."

"Yes, thank you. Well, he quarreled with his fiancée."

"Will you share this memory with me?" he asked.

A flash of fear passed over her features. There was no doubt that she did not want to share it; Albus wondered how painful it had to be. "Yes, of course," she replied, but her voice was so tight in her throat that she nearly whispered.

The memory that she showed him was dark and murky, as if it took place deep underwater. The girl sobbed in agony, seated on the floor with her head in her hands. Soothing female voices spoke to her in Italian, and shadowy arms reached out to her. When they drew her hands away from her face, Albus could see streams of blood flowing from the girl's eyes down her face and dripping onto the front of her robes.

"That's enough," he told her in a firm voice.

Calyxa sagged back in the chair, taking deep breaths. The poor thing looked shaken and paler than before.

"My dear child," he said gently, "I am very sorry that you suffer this way. I think I can help you, though, if you are willing."

With a pallid smile, she nodded and took another deep breath. "Thanks to you, sir."

* * *

"The girl is an excellent student," he explained to Minerva as they shared some raspberry tarts and a pot of tea late in the evening. "Top marks in all her subjects, but their way of schooling is quite different than ours. She's already done her Italian O.W.L.s although she's just fifteen, and she'll need to be exempted from Herbology, History of Magic, Astronomy, and other electives." 

"I can't imagine the contessa values such subjects," sniffed Minerva, for she did not hide her disapproval of Peziza's disarming ability to get whatever she wanted.

"Calyxa has excelled in Charms and Transfiguration, and as a Janarra witch, she probably knows more about Astronomy than all the rest of us. They have their own means of Divination as well."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Should I say I'm not surprised?"

"Now, Minerva, suspend your prejudice of the mother and think of what's best for the child," said Albus gently. "Honestly, she could be put up with the sixth years since she won't be taking our O.W.L.s, but there will be less of a problem with the language if she stays with the fifth years."

"Very well."

"As for Defense Against the Dark Arts, we have a real problem," he went on. "The Janarra have a completely different system than we do, so Calyxa would have to go into a class with first-year students.

Minerva mused while she sipped her tea. "Should she be exempted from that as well?"

"I think not. She has excelled at other practical subjects and should have no problems using her magic. I would hate for any student to be completely unaware of the subject, particularly given the way current events are shaping up."

"The Janarra are pacifists, aren't they?"

"Not by definition. It's interesting to hear Peziza tell a bit about the history of their clan. Up until recently, they were polygamous, with witches taking more than one husband."

"_That_ I can believe," Minerva muttered. "Still, I've never heard of the Janarra getting involved in politics. Or indeed anything."

"They do tend to keep to themselves," Albus agreed, "but they are reliable friends and allies. As to the language problem, I think it would be best to choose two or three students from the sixth year to sit with her in the evenings for a bit of tutoring. The seventh years are too busy with N.E.W.T.s. I've already spoken to Sonnagh Mitchell. His mother is from Italy, and he speaks fluent Italian. He says he'd be willing to help her with English."

The Mitchell boy was an easygoing Hufflepuff and a good student. "He'll be a fine tutor," said Minerva.

"Who's your best student?"

Minerva sighed. "I have to say James Potter, but I hesitate to name him as a tutor. I'm not sure he'd have the patience to sit with a foreign student unless he was to teach Quidditch terminology."

"And the second best?"

With a roll of her eyes, she said, "Sirius Black. I'd say let the poor girl just practice the vocabulary with the other tutors rather than suffering the attentions of one or both of those boys."

"I've asked Filius, and he said Lily Evans would be the only one he'd choose to help her with Charms. The problem is that Horace chose her as the Potions tutor as well. When I asked him to name a second, he said Severus Snape."

"Snape!" Minerva repeated. "He's a worse choice than Potter!"

"Maybe so, maybe so," said Albus. "Yet it may be the best thing for him to have our confidence."

"Well, if the girl's anything like the mother, I'm certain she'll have no problem handling him, Potter, Black – or indeed anyone." Minerva didn't seem quite satisfied, but she let the subject drop. "Well, what about Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Since she won't attend any class at all, she'll have a tutor for the theory as well as the practical. Someone who'll get course credit for teaching her."

"Who's that?"

"Remus Lupin."

Minerva's eyes widened.

"You don't think he'd do a good job?"

"A good job? Of course he would; that's not the point," she insisted. "Wouldn't it be dangerous to put the boy in daily contact with one of the Janarra? Don't they worship the moon? And she'll be the next contessa!"

"My dear Minerva," he said mildly. "I think that she is the perfect first student for a young wizard who will someday make an excellent teacher."

"But – Albus, really!" she complained. "Won't she know what he is? It's not something that can be hidden. What if she exposed his condition? He'd have to leave school, and I'm certain that there would be calls for your resignation – if not your head."

"I see no risk of any of those things happening." He smiled to himself, for Minerva certainly had a soft spot for the boy. "You may dislike the contessa; however, her children are Janarra – and Venetian! They have no doubt learned the value of keeping secrets."

* * *

Thanks to beta-readers Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes; to Finrod the Faithful for guy advice; and to Memory for advice on all things Italian. 


	18. What Lily and James Saw

**Chapter 17: What Lily and James Saw**

As they were going up the stairs to Professor Flitwick's office to meet the new student, Remus didn't say anything, and Lily understood that he was nervous. Unlike his irritating friends, Lily had always liked Remus Lupin, who was a bit more quiet and thoughtful than the average teenaged boy. The news that he had been chosen out of all the students in their year to tutor a new student in Defense Against the Dark Arts had filled Remus with a noticeable glow of pride but also nervous excitement. The others had teased him, of course – Sirius Black had started calling him "Professor Lupin" – but Lily knew that they were really happy for him. It was no secret that he wanted to be a teacher, and this was his opportunity to prove himself.

At their knock, the door opened to admit them to the professor's office, which Lily had only seen a few times. Professor Flitwick was seated behind his desk. He and a sullen-looking boy sat listening as a tall boy with bristly blonde hair spoke in a foreign language to a dark-haired girl in blue robes.

Lily knew Sonnagh Mitchell well enough. Although they were in different houses, she had always been friendly with the tall, thin Hufflepuff. Right now, he seemed to be explaining something in Italian while the little Charms professor and the other boy, Severus Snape, sat waiting.

"Ah, Miss Evans, Mr. Lupin," said Professor Flitwick. "Come in and let me introduce you. Miss di Janarra, this is Lily Evans, who will be helping with your English, and Remus Lupin, who will be tutoring you in Defense Against the Dark Arts. This is Calyxa di Janarra."

The girl stood up and extended her hand to Lily. "How do you do?" she said in very slow, perfectly pronounced English.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Lily shook her hand, but already she felt sorry for the girl. At first glance, she appeared lovely and elegant, with extraordinary grace and the most exquisite robes Lily had ever seen. When she took a good look at Calyxa, however, Lily saw a short, frightened-looking girl with a pale face, dark eyes, and strange, arched eyebrows. In addition, although she was small and slim, she was full-breasted, and the boys were already staring at her.

_At least she stands up straight and doesn't hunch over like some girls_, Lily thought with a sigh, but she knew that this poor girl was going to have a problem adapting to life at Hogwarts.

Next, the Italian girl shook Remus's hand. "How do you do?" she said again in her painful diction.

Lily squelched a smile. Poor Remus looked smitten already! "Pleased to meet you." He shook the girl's little white hand, but he was admiring her, no doubt about it. At least he wasn't staring at her chest.

"Please, sit down." Professor Flitwick summoned more chairs, and they all settled in a semicircle in front of his desk. "As I was telling Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Snape, you will each be scheduled to meet Miss di Janarra once a week after dinner for tutoring in English." He came around to the front of his desk to pass out schedules to them. "Mr. Lupin, of course, will meet her twice a week in the evening for tutoring in theory, and twice a week during the day for practical instruction."

Again, Lily had to keep from smiling. Remus was not even paying attention to what the professor was saying. He was staring openly at Calyxa di Janarra. To get his attention, she kicked his foot. When he glanced at her, she nodded towards Professor Flitwick.

"And, Mr. Lupin, is there anything that Miss di Janarra needs for your lesson?"

"There's two books," Remus told him and then glanced at the new student. "Have you got them both?"

"Yes, I have," she replied. "Shall I bring them with me?"

"No, you don't need them tomorrow," he assured her. "Just a quill and some parchment, I think. Okay?"

"Yes," she said. "I understand."

At least Remus was acting more normal, Lily thought as Professor Flitwick went over the tutoring schedule, instructions on conduct, and reporting Calyxa's progress.

The professor dismissed them soon after, and Sonnagh said goodbye to Calyxa in flamboyant Italian, so Lily said her own farewell as politely as she could. Remus seemed more in control of himself now, and Severus hardly even glanced at the girl as he trailed them out of the office.

"What a posh accent!" Sonnagh exclaimed once they were on the stairs. "She's from Venice, and her father is a prince."

"A prince?" she and Remus asked together. Severus, who was several steps behind them, said nothing.

"Prince Alvise Venier di Venezia. And her mother is the Contessa di Janarra."

"So she's royal?" Lily had never heard those names. It made sense, though, that the elegant, graceful girl she had just met was royalty.

"No, they work it differently in Italy. They've got hundreds of princes." They arrived at the bottom of the stairs, and Severus was no longer behind them although none of them had noticed where he went. "Anyway, I'll see you later." Sonnagh headed off in another direction.

"Yeah, see you."

As they strolled back towards Gryffindor Tower, Remus walked with his fists shoved into his pockets and a preoccupied frown on his face.

"She seemed nice," Lily started. "Very shy, though. I don't think she'll have an easy time fitting in."

"Yeah," Remus agreed, but he did not seem to be paying attention to what she was saying.

"Did you think she was pretty?" she asked.

"Uh-huh."

"I thought she was ugly."

"Yeah."

"Remus!" she cried in exasperation.

Startled, he finally looked at her. "What?"

"You haven't heard a word I've said."

"I'm sorry. Just a bit preoccupied." He scratched the back of his head absentmindedly. "What did you say?"

In a sudden rush, Lily felt an ache of compassion and empathy for him. Having been entrusted with such an important task by Professor Dumbledore himself, Remus must be under an enormous amount of pressure to do a good job.

"I'm sure you'll be a great teacher," she assured him. They were approaching the portrait that was the entrance to the dormitory, so she had little time to say anything private. "If it was me in the same situation, I'd want you to be my tutor."

An awkward, pleased smile brightened his face. "Thanks."

"I mean it." She smiled back at him before stepping through the portrait hole and heading into the common room.

* * *

James stretched his shoulders as he and Sirius headed up from the dungeons after detention. "Glad that's over," he admitted with a sigh. "I've still got McGonagall's essay to finish." 

"I do as well, but it'll keep," said Sirius. "Let's go by the library and see how Moony's doing with his lesson."

James rolled his eyes. Like just about everyone in the school, Sirius was curious to get a good look at The Princess. "All right," James agreed, "but just for a minute. We don't want to disrupt him on the _first day_."

"Of course not." Sirius strove to sound insulted. "Just to check on him and be sure that he's all right."

Once in the library, they had no problem locating Remus and Calyxa di Janarra. The two were settled off at a table away from the others. Although they both had parchment, quills, and ink pots set out, the lesson was obviously over. The two seemed to be chatting rather casually.

The girl sat up very straight and looked far too elegant and refined for the Hogwarts library. Remus was listening intently to her, and James could hear her speaking excruciating English as he and Sirius approached the table. "_La Serenissima_, she is called. Most serene."

"Venice," Remus repeated, his thoughts on that ancient, magical city.

"Why, hello there." Sirius sat down across from Calyxa and leaned his elbows on their table. "I don't think I've met you."

James laughed as sat down next to him. "That is absolutely the worst line I've ever heard!" And it was.

Remus looked annoyed at their unexpected arrival, and James understood why. Ever since girls had started noticing him, Sirius Black had had his choice, and the other boys had been left with his remnants, like crumbs from a cake.

The year before, Remus had gone out with Gwen Cogan until it became obvious that she was only with him to get near Sirius. Of course, the others had pretended not to notice, and Sirius had ignored her. Remus had stayed with her longer than he should have and later admitted that it was only because she let him kiss her and get his hands under her robes. Even that hadn't made up for the pain of knowing she really didn't care about him.

After they had broken up, James had taken Remus aside and said that she was a silly cow to think that Sirius would be interested in one of his best mates' girls, that none of them would ever do such a thing, and that Remus was better off without her. Neither of them ever mentioned it again, but James had not forgotten.

At the moment, Remus had no choice but to introduce them although it certainly was not something he wanted to do. "This is my friend, Sirius Black," he told the girl. "And this is James Potter. Calyxa di Janarra."

There was a brief hesitation as she sat staring at them, at both of them, with a little frown. "How do you do?" She reached to shake hands with each of them but seemed less than impressed.

"A pleasure," said Sirius rather elegantly, which made Remus roll his eyes.

"Nice to meet you," said James pleasantly. Both of them, of course, were from ancient pure-blooded wizarding families and had been brought up in a well-to-do social circle; thus their manners were really excellent when they chose to employ them.

"Is it true that your father is a prince?" asked Sirius, and Remus winced.

"My father?" she repeated very seriously. "Certainly, he is."

"So that makes you a princess," mused Sirius with a mischievous light in his eyes.

The remark made her smile, and James thought she looked almost pretty when she did. On the other hand, Remus was glaring at Sirius, who was completely oblivious.

"No, not at all," she told them. "I have an elder brother who will be prince after my father."

It took her forever to say all that; however, he and Sirius were examining her shapely figure and were not much bothered by her slow speech. There was certainly something to be said for a girl with good posture!

"I thought you two had detention," said Remus, trying not to sound peevish.

"We just finished and thought we'd stop in on our way back to the dorm to say hi," said James.

"And meet the princess." Sirius sat back in his chair and grinned at her, and Remus looked almost wounded, as if his friend was betraying him.

"I am no princess." Calyxa looked confused. "Forgive me if I have spoken incorrectly. This English, she likes to trick me."

"No, Sirius is just teasing you." Remus shot his friends a look. "Pay no attention to him."

"I'm totally unappreciated in my own time," sighed Sirius in mock-martyrdom.

"Is that why you always end up in detention?" asked James.

"Could be."

Calyxa was looking lost, and James suspected that she had not understood the exchange. "Do you understand?" he asked her.

"No." She looked rather uncomfortable. "What means _detention_?"

He and Sirius crowed with laughter, earning a death-glare from Madam Pince and a startled look from Calyxa. "For Merlin's sake," Remus muttered as quietly as he could manage. "You two are going to get us kicked out of the library during our first lesson."

"Okay, okay," said James and elbowed Sirius.

"Sorry," said Sirius. "How long are you going to be here, anyway? Want us to wait for you?"

"No, it might be a while. Go on, and I'll be up a little later."

"Nice to meet you, Calyxa," said James as he got up. "Don't keep Remus out too late!"

"'Night, Princess," Sirius called with a wink.

She looked at him with a frown, still not comprehending why he was referring to her by a title that was not hers. "Good night."

Once they were down the corridor and completely alone, James said, "Padfoot, you bloody great prat."

"What?" asked Sirius in honest confusion.

"You don't notice what's going on right in front of you, that's what," James told him in an annoyed tone.

"Why? What'd I miss?"

"You missed Moony murdering you with a look while you were flirting with his little girlfriend," James told him.

"His... what?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" James muttered. Sometimes Sirius could be incredibly obtuse. "Do you want to have another situation like Gwen Cogan?"

Although they had never discussed what had happened with Remus's old girlfriend, Sirius understood in an instant. "Oh," he said and then went quiet.

The memory was a painful one, but Sirius had not been to blame. He had hardly even noticed the girl before Remus had started with her. He had certainly done nothing to encourage her.

The two said nothing more before they stated the password to the Fat Lady in the portrait that guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor dormitory. In the common room, all eyes snapped up to follow their progress, but James and Sirius headed straight for their usual place: a table off to the side of the hearth.

Peter was working on McGonagall's essay. He glanced up when they entered and tossed down his quill with a long sigh of relief. "I was wondering when you two would be finished."

"Can't you survive even a few hours alone?" Sirius snapped so savagely that the smaller boy stared at him with his mouth hanging open.

_He's feeling guilty_, James knew as he flopped into a chair. Of course, it had tortured poor Sirius to be the one Remus's girl had wanted, and James feared that he had overdone the criticism on the walk back from the library. "We might as well get to work while we wait for Moony," he said cajolingly.

Sirius relaxed a little before sliding into an empty chair, and Peter grinned. "Have you seen the Italian girl? I saw her after dinner. Quite a pair she's got – even the girls say so."

"Fried eggs would be quite a pair for that girl," said Sirius.

The other two guffawed. "We met her in the library when we were checking on Moony," James explained. "She speaks painful English."

"Painful?" Peter asked in confusion.

Sirius laughed. "Like every word is a pain to get out. Good one, Prongs."

"Maybe that's why she's always with Sonnagh Mitchell," Peter mused. "Someone said they must be going out."

"Going out?" James repeated with a frown. "With Sonnagh?" He and Sirius glanced at each other. "She hasn't even been here one day."

"He speaks Italian, though," said Peter reasonably.

He had completely missed the look that passed between the other boys, which relieved James although he wasn't sure why. They all felt bad for Remus having to go through his monthly transformations, and the debacle with Gwen had made them feel even worse for him. In one of his rare exhibits of self-pity, Remus had once said that no girl deserved to have a werewolf for a boyfriend, but afterwards, he seemed to feel better and had been as normal of the rest of them.

Still, the less said about it the better, James thought. They ought to leave Remus alone. His eyes met Sirius's, and they seemed to be thinking the same thing. Not a word would be said about it.

* * *

The usual thanks go to beta readers Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes as well as advisors Finrod the Faithful and Memory. 

Notes: To celebrate the end of my summer course in Advanced Calculus, I'm posting this fun chapter a little bit early. The beta-readers are having fun with the ensuing chapters, so I hope that everyone reading them enjoys them as well. I'm curious to know what your reactions are, so either leave a review or email me if you have a comment. (And keep your fingers crossed that I get the Graduate Assistantship I'm interviewing for!)  
Cheers! Zen

* * *


	19. What Jillian Saw

**Chapter 18: What Jillian Saw**

For four years, there had only been two other girls in Jillian Kipping's dormitory: Ellen Spaugh and Felicity Keystone. All three were friends, and they generally did things together; however, Jillian and Ellen had always been closer friends with each other than either of them was with Felicity. Jillian never wondered about it until Professor Flitwick told them that a fourth girl would be joining them. The addition of Calyxa di Janarra had an interesting effect on the dynamics of the friendship among the three girls.

Felicity had always been a bit much, Jillian decided. A bit too selfish, a bit too condescending, a bit too overbearing. Ellen was quieter and more level-headed. _More like me_, Jillian realized.

The first day, they were all a bit in awe of Calyxa's elegance and grace. The Italian girl let them try on all her clothes, not that any of them was small enough to fit into them. She let them open every little glass jar and bottle she had and try her cosmetics and toiletries. Whenever she said anything, which was rare, she spoke in very clear, carefully pronounced English. More often than not, the girl listened or sat still and watched them. To Jillian, she seemed very serene and content.

In classes, Calyxa did not speak. Once, Professor McGonagall asked her a question. Although she answered correctly, it took so long to speak the formal English words that the class was fiddling impatiently by the time she finished. Professor McGonagall never called on her again.

The four Ravenclaw girls sat together at meals. Calyxa would eat nothing more than a bit of toast at breakfast with barely a sip of tea to wash it down. By lunch time, Jillian thought she must be starving because she ate a full meal with her ridiculously formal table manners. At dinner, she ate very lightly as well.

"She must be on a diet," Felicity said at the end of the first week, shrugging a little and totally unconcerned.

It didn't make any sense to Jillian, who thought that if Calyxa lost any weight, she'd blow away in a strong breeze.

"Don't you like tea?" she asked Calyxa at breakfast the next day.

"No," the girl replied honestly. "It is my habit to drink _caffè_ in the morning."

"Coffee?" asked Jillian in surprise. "You know, you can get some here if you want."

"Can I?" Calyxa seemed surprised.

For the first time, Jillian looked carefully at her. Yes, she seemed serene and content on the surface, but there was something painful, something unhappy, there as well. How had she missed it so completely before?

She decided to be nicer to Calyxa, to be friendlier. She also decided to have a chat with Sonnagh Mitchell. Jillian was a bit sweet on him. A lot of girls were, for despite a problem with spots, he was tall and good-looking and had that glib Irish-ness about him. He was funny, but most of all, he was really nice. Very few boys were _really_ nice.

That evening, Jillian had tentatively approached the table in the library where Sonnagh was helping Calyxa with her English. Calyxa laughed and talked animatedly with him. _She really is quite pretty_, Jillian thought enviously as she watched the Italian girl speak intimately with the boy she had admired for two years.

They both looked up in surprise at her approach.

"Hi." She stood beside them feeling exceptionally uncomfortable. "Sonnagh, I wanted to ask you... Well, I was surprised this morning because I didn't know that Italians don't drink tea. I don't know anything about Italy, and I felt bad that I wasn't helpful. I..." She took a deep breath. Both of them were staring at her in surprise. "Would you explain about Italian people? I mean, would you tell me some things so I can understand? So I can help Calyxa feel more comfortable?"

His eyes were on her – it made her feel luxuriant, like a cat in the sun. Calyxa looked lost, as if she didn't understand, but that didn't matter: it was temporary.

"Sit down," said Sonnagh with a grin.

So had begun her friendship with Calyxa. Only later did she admit to herself what an ignoble beginning it had been. She had been kind to the new student because she was fond of a boy.

* * *

The first Hogsmeade trip occurred on a cool, sunny day in October. By that time, Jillian had become more of a friend to Calyxa than to Ellen, who had become closer, in turn, with Felicity. The four girls walked to the village together but split up after lunch. 

Thus, when she saw Sonnagh and two of his Hufflepuff friends going into the Three Broomsticks later in the afternoon, she steered Calyxa to the entrance. "I think you need to try some butterbeer," she insisted.

Inside, the pub was dark and crowded. The two girls stood just inside the doorway as their eyes became accustomed to the darkness. Jillian just spotted Sonnagh disappearing around a corner.

"Come on." She took Calyxa's arm firmly and pulled her along. Because she was so intent on where they were going, Jillian almost ran into someone.

"Whoa! What's the rush, Kipping?" Sirius Black held two mugs of butterbeer up to shoulder level to avoid having the two girls jostle them.

"Trying to find a couple of empty seats," she replied, her eyes searching anxiously for Sonnagh.

"Come on over to our table," he invited, herding them with an arm. "Plenty of room there. And if not, Princess, you can sit on Remus's lap, eh?" He winked at Calyxa, who shrank from him physically.

The involuntary reaction surprised and pleased Jillian and made her forget her prey for a moment. Was it possible that Calyxa was immune to the charms of Sirius Black? The boy was as arrogant as he was good-looking, and although Jillian liked looking at him, she liked him best when his mouth was shut.

"Right over there." He nudged them along to the corner table where James Potter and Remus Lupin sat waiting. "Look at what I found just wandering around looking for a place to sit."

Remus stood up immediately. He was quiet and rather nice, and Jillian had always wondered why he hung around with such idiots. "Have a seat, ladies," he said, gesturing for them to slide past him. "I'll go get two more."

"No, I'll go," said James, getting up just as the fourth of their gang, Peter Pettigrew, arrived at the table with two more mugs. "Give those to the girls. I'll be right back."

Remus and Calyxa smiled at each other. Although he was thin and pale, he was actually very cute. _Beautiful eyes_, Jillian thought as she slid along the bench at the table. Calyxa settled next to her with Remus on the other side of her. Peter was across the table from Jillian with Sirius next to him.

"Would you please introduce your friend?" said Calyxa to Remus.

"Oh. Sorry. Yeah. This is Peter Pettigrew." He gestured across the table. "Calyxa di Janarra."

She extended her hand. "How do you do?"

Peter was frozen for a moment and did not react. Sirius elbowed him. "Don't be rude, Pete."

The smaller boy shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you," he mumbled. Calyxa was gracious and elegant as ever, and the boy didn't seem to know how to speak to her. Jillian felt a bit sorry for him.

Sirius took a gulp of his drink and brushed his mouth with the back of his hand. "So what have you girls been up to today?"

Jillian couldn't help admiring him, for he really was absurdly handsome, especially with the mischievous glint in his eyes. Calyxa, on the other hand, sat perfectly still, looking at him with a frown. The mug of butterbeer sat untouched in front of her.

The silent moment lasted a bit too long for comfort. "It's Calyxa's first visit to Hogsmeade," Jillian explained. "I've just been showing her around, and I realized she hasn't tried any butterbeer."

"Don't they have it in Italy?" asked Peter.

It was hard to look at him while he was sitting next to Sirius; Jillian felt her eyes sliding to the right until she forced herself to pay attention to Peter. The earlier feeling of being sorry for him evaporated when she noticed that the little creep kept staring at Calyxa's chest. Then Jillian realized that she was doing almost the same thing with Sirius, though perhaps not quite as bad.

"I think not," Calyxa replied.

"Well, go ahead and try some," Sirius urged.

Still frowning, Calyxa looked around the table. There were only four mugs for the five of them, and Remus was the one without. Sirius and Peter were already drinking theirs, and Jillian had taken a sip.

"It's okay to go ahead," Remus told her. "James won't care that we didn't wait for him."

"He'll be the first one finished anyway," said Sirius.

Calyxa cast a glance over towards the bar, but there was no sign of James. She turned back and lifted the mug with both hands to take a sip. She took three delicate sips, somehow managing to not get any froth on her lips.

"Good, isn't it?" said Jillian.

Calyxa said something in Italian.

"What's that mean?" asked Sirius.

"I do not know the word in English," she replied.

"Should we ask Sonnagh to translate?" Jillian asked, trying to sound casual. "I saw him right over there." She pointed towards the back of the pub just as James arrived with two more mugs of butterbeer.

"Saw who?" he asked as he pushed one mug to Remus.

"Sonnagh Mitchell." Jillian had to speak up for him to hear her from her end of the table. "We wanted him to translate something."

"I was just talking to him at the bar while I was waiting." James turned around. "Sonnagh! Hey, can you come over here for a minute?"

Jillian felt her pulse race, and she forced herself to keep an expression of mild curiosity on her face. Sonnagh had three mugs of butterbeeer, two handles in one hand, and he set them down on the edge of the table.

"We wanted you to translate something," she said to him, hoping no one noticed the flutter in her voice.

He glanced at her for a second and then at Calyxa, whom he asked a question in Italian. The two spoke back and forth for a few sentences, and an incredulous look spread across Sonnagh's face. Finally, he snorted with laughter. "She says that it's repulsive," he translated.

"Repulsive," repeated Calyxa carefully to commit it to her memory.

"What?" several of them asked at once.

"She says it's sickeningly sweet."

"Yes, it is too sweet," said Calyxa, nodding.

"Too sweet?" Peter looked offended. "It's not possible!"

"Nah, it's a cultural thing," Sonnagh assured them. "I'm sure Calyxa's more used to drinking _prosecco_ in the palaces of Venice."

"Bad _prosecco_ is very sweet," said Calyxa.

"What's _prosecco_?" Jillian asked.

"Sparkling wine," Sonnagh explained as he lifted his mugs from where he had rested them on the table. "Like Italian champagne."

"Thanks, Sonnagh," called Jillian as he turned away.

"Yeah, see you later."

"Too sweet," said Remus, shaking his head and laughing.

"Now, come on, Remus," said Sirius with a sly look. "You know the princess is sweet enough as she is."

With Sonnagh's departure Jillian's spirits plummeted. Even the fine form of Sirius Black didn't interest her. She was vaguely aware of the boys making stupid comments and laughing raucously, but she merely sipped her butterbeer and wondered if she could locate Sonnagh's table if she glanced over her shoulder.

Before she realized what was happening, their table and partially finished mugs of butterbeer were abandoned, and she and Calyxa were going somewhere in the cold October afternoon with James Potter's gang. Sirius slung his arm around her shoulders and laughed easily as he led her along.

Jillian actually stopped and looked back to make sure Calyxa was all right. The Italian girl was walking with Remus, seeming unconcerned and chatting with him. They were not actually looking at each other, but they were walking with their heads bent towards the other, and it all seemed rather sweet. The other boy, Peter, was trudging along on Remus's other side.

Satisfied, Jillian turned her attention to Sirius. It was actually kind of nice to be so close to him though she knew she could never let the conceited git know. "Where are we going, actually?" she asked him as they left the road and wove in between some trees and shrubs.

"Just a place where we can sit and relax without prying eyes." Sirius smirked and propelled her along at the same time.

He made it sound both enticing and frightening; of course, Jillian rolled her eyes at him but made no effort to resist. James led them to a broad-spreading oak tree and sat down beneath it. Sirius let go of Jillian's shoulders and flopped down facing him.

Before she had a chance to say anything, though, she heard Remus say, "It's a bit cold to sit on the ground."

When she turned, Jillian saw him shrugging off his jacket and spreading it on the grass. "Thank you," said Calyxa in what seemed like a rather offhand manner, as if such gallantry was to be expected. As she gracefully sat down with her legs folded under her, she left plenty of room for him to sit beside her. For a second, he hesitated before settling down on the other side of the jacket.

Peter had already sat down as well, so that Jillian was the only one left standing. She looked expectantly at Sirius, who was leaning back on his elbows and grinning at Remus.

James Potter muttered and got to his feet. He pulled his woolen jumper over his head and spread it out on the ground. "Here you go, Jillian," he said with an awkward kind of quietness in his voice.

At first, she wasn't sure what to do because there wasn't enough room for both of them to sit on the jumper. James returned immediately to his spot against the trunk of the tree, so she thanked him and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.

"Shall we not have glasses?" said Calyxa in a confused tone, and Jillian glanced at her. The Italian girl was looking at Sirius, who was just tilting back a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky to take a drink. Where on earth had he got _that_?

"Uncultured git," James said to Sirius.

"All right," Sirius sighed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin; he then took out his wand and transformed it into a metal cup and tossed it to Calyxa. She didn't move to catch it, and it landed between her and Remus.

"How about you?" he said to Jillian as he transformed another coin. "You want to drink like a princess too?"

"You're too kind," she said dryly, and when he flipped her the cup, she caught it with both hands.

"Always the charmer with the ladies," said James.

Peter had taken up the bottle and leaned to pour a full cup for Calyxa and then for Jillian, who was next to him. After that, he took a swig himself before handing the bottle to James.

"You know what that is?" Remus asked Calyxa as she sipped her drink.

"I can tell you what it is not," she replied as she considered the taste. "It is not Napoleon brandy."

The boys guffawed at the comment, and seeing how easily Calyxa drank the stuff, Jillian took a sip. It burned her throat and made her cough a little. How did Calyxa manage with such silky smoothness?

"All right there, Kipping?" asked Sirius.

Determined to remain as calm and ladylike as Calyxa, Jillian took another sip before smiling at him. "Perfectly fine."

"Good." He grinned as Remus passed him the bottle and tipped it up for a big gulp. "We can all pair off now. Remus and the Princess. You and me, Kipping." He winked at her. "James, I'm afraid you're stuck with Peter."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," James snapped.

"Then let's play Truth or Consequences," Peter suggested.

"Good idea, Pete." Sirius leaned to refill Calyxa's cup.

Jillian looked down at her own drink with a frown. She took a big swallow and then another in order to finish what she had. "I don't think I have anything interesting to say," Jillian told the boys. Her throat and stomach were burning.

Remus was talking to Calyxa in a low voice, probably explaining what the game was.

"That's okay," said James. "We really only do it so we can hear what Sirius has to say."

"My truths are more compelling than other people's truths," agreed Sirius.

"Somehow, I suspect that's not so," said Jillian. Now that the burning sensation had faded, she felt pleasantly warm and happy, so she took another sip of her drink.

"It is like _Pinocchio_," said Calyxa to Remus loud enough for all of them to hear.

"What's that?" asked James.

"It's a book for children very famous in Italy. A carpenter builds a boy made of wood, and a fairy makes him alive. But every time he says a lie his nose becomes longer, so the others know that he is lying."

They all stared at her, for although she made mistakes, she spoke quite fluently as compared to her usual excruciating English.

"Wow. The firewhisky really improves your speaking," said Peter in amazement.

"So, you'll play?" Sirius had been lounging; now, he sat up and raised his eyebrows at her.

"I shall, if you wish," she replied, looking at Remus.

"It could be fun," he said lightly before looking at James.

"Okay, then." James took out his wand and cast the spell that would make their noses grow longer if they didn't tell the truth. "I'll start. Who was the first person that you kissed?" He grinned and looked to his right. "Pete?"

The boy grinned and grew red. "My cousin Hortense, summer after third year," he replied.

The other boys howled with laughter. "Hortense!" cried Sirius.

Jillian laughed with the others and drank more of the firewhisky. She was feeling a little dizzy, but the sound of the boys' delighted laughter was infectious.

"Jillian?"

"Well." She felt herself blushing as she recalled the first boy she had kissed. "It was Donald Gant," she admitted, not meeting anyone's eye.

No one seemed either surprised or amused. "Mine was Emily Fielding," Sirius announced.

Jillian was surprised. She hadn't known that there had ever been anything between Sirius and Emily.

"Okay, Calyxa, your turn," said James.

The little Italian witch considered it. "I am not certain that I comprehend the question," she said. "Do you mean the first kiss including lessons? Or after that?"

"Lessons?" asked Sirius. "What kind of lessons?"

"Why, kissing lessons, of course," said Calyxa, as if should have been evident.

"Kissing lessons?" James repeated, looking as if he didn't know whether to laugh or frown.

"You learn to kiss?" asked Jillian. "Is that an Italian thing?"

"It is certainly a Venetian practice," replied Calyxa. "Do you not?"

"She's drunk," said Peter with a laugh.

"You take kissing lessons?" Sirius asked in disbelief. "Where can I sign me up to become an instructor? Or a test subject?"

"If you have no lesson, then how do you learn it?" asked Calyxa in wonderment.

"Well," began Remus. He was frowning in thought and looking away from her. "We just kind of... do it."

Calyxa looked scandalized. "Without any practice before?" she asked in shock. Then she laughed. "How horrible must that be!"

"Okay, lessons don't count," James said as a ruling, but he was grinning as if he found the whole situation entertaining. "Besides lessons, who was the first?"

Calyxa thought for a moment. "Matteo Badoer."

"Oh, yes. Of course," said Sirius sarcastically. "Matteo Badoer. My old mate."

Jillian gulped down the rest of her drink. She was feeling even more dizzy and leaned her chin on her hands and her elbows on her knees and wondered if she should lie down. She might feel better if she did. Then she realized she had missed Remus and James's answers as well as the next question.

"What's the question?" she asked.

"Who do you fancy most in all Hogwarts?" Peter repeated.

"Sonnagh Mitchell," she blurted out and hiccoughed.

"_Really_?" asked Sirius in interest.

_Oh no! _What had she done? Had she really told the boys that she fancied Sonnagh? Jillian suddenly felt very ill. It was certainly going to get back to him. She rubbed her head with both hands and gritted her teeth against a terrible wave of nausea.

Whatever Sirius's answer was, she missed it, but when she heard Calyxa say, "Professor Flitwick," there was a storm of loud laughter and shrieks of glee. The voices were disembodied and seemed to come from far away.

"You're joking!"

"I told you, she's drunk."

"No, she's telling the truth. Look!"

With a sudden horror, Jillian knew she was going to be violently ill. She staggered to her feet and lurched away from the circle under the oak tree. She did not get far before she fell to her knees and began to vomit. She dimly hoped that she was out of earshot while she was ill. It seemed to go on for hours, and then there was nothing left in her stomach and she collapsed weakly on her side.

The rest of the day passed in a dim, miserable fog of which she could remember little. She was helped, dragged, and half-carried back to the school. There were woozy memories of Sirius and James in the Ravenclaw common room – how did they get in there? – and of Calyxa calling Sirius a _cretin_.

She lay miserably in her own bed as Calyxa set a wet cloth on her head. Then there was a murmur of Italian, and Jillian was dreaming that Sonnagh was sitting by her and petting her hair.

* * *

The usual thanks go to Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes for beta reading; to Finrod the Faithful for guy-advice; and to Memory for all things Italian. Special thanks go to **ShadeCrystal** for the English explanation of _Pinocchio_. 

Notes: I had my interview for the GA, and I'll find out next week if I got it. (Keep the positive vibes flowing because it means 100 tuition remission!) The fall semester starts on Monday, so I'm posting this one more fun and amusing chapter before that. I'm currently writing Ch. 24, which is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought.

To anyone leaving an anonymous review, I'm unable to respond to you because the _Reply_ function only works for logged in reviews. KRP, you've left several comments, and I'm sorry that I can't reply, but I do appreciate the feedback!


	20. What Calyxa Saw

**Chapter 19: What Calyxa Saw**

As she tended to poor Jillian, who lay in bed mewling weakly like a hungry kitten, Calyxa silently cursed those reckless boys for giving her so much to drink when she was not accustomed to it. What was needed now was a potion to reduce the effects, but Calyxa had neither the knowledge nor the skill to produce such a thing. But she knew who did.

The best thing would be to get Jillian to sleep. It was the dinner hour, so none of the others had been present when Calyxa helped Jillian to change into night clothes, drink some cold water, and get into bed. When the other girl was resting fitfully, Calyxa found her ancient volume of _La Saggezza delle Streghe_ and flipped to the chapter that dealt with the effect of magic on sleep. After reading over the pertinent passages, she went back to Jillian's bedside. Of course, the book spoke of natural sleep and not a drunken stupor, but she thought it would work. But what dream to plant?

At once, the image of Sonnagh rose in her mind. Jillian had admitted that she was fond of the Irish boy, which was not much of a surprise to Calyxa, who had seen them together several times. Then Sirius had told Sonnagh while they had been bringing the poor girl back to the dormitory. He had been carrying Jillian and offered to let Sonnagh carry her. "She fancies you, you know," he had told the other boy.

Just thinking of it made her feel angry again, but anger would interfere with what she had to do now, so she released the negative feelings. Summoning the image of Sonnagh, she pictured him sitting beside Jillian, stroking her hair, and talking to her in a soothing voice. It was the perfect dream to use, so Calyxa spoke the incantation necessary to plant it in Jillian's mind.

It must have worked, for Jillian eased into a restful slumber. Calyxa waited a few minutes until she was sure that it was safe to leave, and then she hurried down to the Main Hall, where most people were having their dinner.

Since her family dined at midday and had a light supper in the evening, Calyxa generally did not eat much at the Hogwarts dinners. At the Ravenclaw table, she sat off by herself and took a little food. Some heavy, dark bread was served with the dinner, and she took two thick slabs and wrapped them in her handkerchief to take up to Jillian. That type of food was very effective in soaking up the alcohol in one's stomach. She sat facing the Slytherin table: there was Severus, her Potions tutor, sitting with some friends. Instead of going over there, she decided to wait until he got up to leave. That way she could delay him to talk privately. He was a strange boy, and she imagined he would be self-conscious to have her come over to talk to him on a day when they had no lesson scheduled.

As she sat waiting, she wondered about Severus. After their second lesson together, she had spoken to Professor Dumbledore about him, for his pain was so intense that it twisted within him like the coils of a snake.

"Your concern does you credit." The headmaster had taken out a toffee and given it to her; she did not like sweets, but she accepted it with a murmur of thanks. "There is nothing that you can do except extend the hand of friendship."

"He will not take it."

"He will." The headmaster had sounded certain. "And then you will have helped him in a way that you cannot yet imagine. My dear, you have a great gift in the ability to see beyond the physical, to see what others cannot. Or will not."

Although Severus had hideous manners and most of his comments to her were caustic, these actions were so obviously defenses against further harm that she pitied him immensely. Like a small dog struck by too many hands, he had learned to bite any that came near. As a result, she tried to be kinder towards him. Kinder and more understanding.

Last week, he had asked in a surly, brusque manner if she wanted to go to a party where she could meet some new people. She had accepted and gone with him although he had hardly spoken with her all evening and had not walked her back to the Ravenclaw common room like a proper escort.

These thoughts kept her busy until she saw Severus getting up from his table. She left her seat and slipped the bread into her pocket as she walked to the doors and then waited just outside.

"Severus," she said to him as he came out of the Hall. "Good evening. May I speak with you for a moment?"

His eyes darted around as if he was looking for danger, as if he thought she was distracting him from some sort of attack, like a mouse sensing a trap. "What is it?" he asked, glancing at her and then around again.

"I would like to ask your help in making a potion," she explained. "It is too difficult for me, but I know that it will be as easy to you as a child's game."

Although his brows drew together in a frown, he flushed slightly at the praise as she had suspected he would. During one of their most recent lessons in the library, his simple brilliance had caused her to declare, "Losna! Severus, you are a genius!" He had been curt and impatient with her before that, and she knew that it was because he really did not want to tutor her. Her comment, which had the library matron shushing her, had affected him so much that he had turned very red and seemed not to know how to react to the genuine compliment. "It's nothing, except for the lowest dunces," he had remarked in a condescending tone, but since then, he had been a bit more patient and less nasty to her.

"Which potion?" he asked.

"I do not know the name." She could sense his curiosity and sought to make the most of it. "It is for one who has drunk too much spirits and has become very ill."

A skeptical look crossed his face. "Who's it for?"

"My friend. A girl in my dormitory."

The decision hung in the balance as he frowned at her and considered it. His frown was dark and brooding and unpleasant, but he was considering it.

"Please." She placed her hand on his forearm. "She is very ill. I shall be too grateful for words."

The frown disappeared, and he looked down at her hand and then back up at her. She recognized that look and knew what it meant: men had been looking at her that way since she was a little girl. The important thing was that he was seriously considering it.

"Please," she said again and held his gaze with hers. One more second and he would agree. She smiled a little, hopeful. _Be as unpleasant as you wish, but say yes, _she thought.

A group of boys came out of the Great Hall and saw them standing there. "Come on, Sev," one of them called as they headed towards the Slytherin common room. "Whenever you're through holding hands with your girlfriend."

As if a bucket of ice water had been tossed over him, Severus went rigid. He pulled his arm away from her. "I don't have time to help you," he muttered as he brushed past her to go after his friends.

His violent emotions unsettled her for a moment, but she took a deep breath and was able to control her reaction. So close! It had almost worked. Well, at least she had the bread for Jillian, she thought as she began to walk back to Ravenclaw Tower. The poor girl would not be in the best of health the following morning, but that could not be helped. From now on, Jillian would be more careful when she drank spirits.

Her dormitory was not far from the Hall, but before she had gone halfway, she knew Remus was approaching. Like a warm breeze, she could feel him, so she stopped walking and turned around to meet him.

"Hi," he said, smiling as he came up to her. "The other girls said you had just finished dinner. I was hoping I'd catch up with you."

She smiled at him and stood very still as waves of gorgeous feelings washed over her. Being in his presence was soothing and wonderful to her. It was like holding a stone that had been worn silky-smooth by eons of water and wind. Whatever pain he suffered, it had made him lovely in her perception.

"I brought something. To help." He held out a small vial closed with a rubber stopper.

Was she supposed to take the vial? That seemed to be what he wanted, so she reached out to take it. Her fingers closed lightly over his hand and lingered, for she liked touching him, and he did not draw his hand away immediately.

"It's for Jillian," he began, but he had to clear his throat. His cheeks and neck seemed quite flushed. "I'm really sorry that she was so ill. If you give this to her in the morning, she should be all right in a couple of minutes."

"Thank you," she replied in true gratitude as she let go and took the vial. "I have been trying to find someone to help me make a potion to cure her," she admitted, "but I was unsuccessful. This is just what I needed." She beamed at him.

"I didn't make it," he blurted. He was even redder and seemed both pleased and uncomfortable. "I got it from Sirius. He felt a bit bad after we left you."

Somehow, she thought he was not being truthful. "I doubt he felt as bad as he should have felt." As much as she did not want to, she knew what she had to do. "Remus, I cannot express how..." She searched for the word. "I am too happy to get this. I could not... find someone to help me." She stopped speaking as her mind worked. It was difficult to express in English what she wished to say.

"I'm glad I could help," he assured her.

"I would like to ask you to help once more," she told him.

"Sure," he said, a little surprised but still smiling. "What can I do?"

"Can I speak with him? With Sirius, I mean?" She heaved an immense sigh. "I need to apologize to him for words I should not have spoken."

Remus reached to scratch his jaw. Now, he was frowning at her. "I don't think you need to do that. He knows he was wrong and won't expect it."

"No, I must." She sighed. "I spoke in anger, which I should not have done." She bit her lip as she studied him. He did not want to do as she asked, but it was impossible to discern why. "I... Will you not take me to speak with him? It will be more difficult if I must wait a whole other day."

"Well, sure," he answered, but he was still frowning. "Come on, they're up in our common room.

"Thank you." She gave him another warm smile before starting to go back towards the Gryffindor Tower.

They walked together without speaking, and it was a wonderful kind of silence for Calyxa. Her errand would be an unpleasant one, and she was not looking forward to it; nevertheless, being in the presence of Remus was delightful: warm, comfortable, and so soothing.

While they were walking, they passed some other students whom they greeted casually, but Remus said nothing until they reached a portrait called The Fat Lady. "I shouldn't let you hear the password, but I suppose I can trust you," he teased.

She laughed. "I revealed my password this afternoon in front of you boys," she reminded him. "But it is nice to be trusted." She looked him in the eyes with a hint of a smile.

He reddened a bit again. Like all Janarra, Calyxa relied on her empathic senses to perceive someone's mood and feelings, but she was particularly lazy in actually looking at people with her eyes. Because she liked him, she had too much trouble untangling her own feelings to sense his. . All her senses seemed to go haywire whenever he was around. Any matter, she liked looking at him. His face was kind, and he had pretty blue eyes. In Italy, many people had blue eyes, but that color was different. Remus had grey-blue eyes, like the Adriatic on a November day. She had never seen eyes that color, and she thought they were exceptionally lovely.

"Yeah," he said. "Come on in."

The Gryffindor common room was loud and busy with students chatting about their visit to Hogsmeade and showing their purchases. Remus's friends sat at a table beside the fireplace, and they were leaning forward to peer at a parchment spread before them. No one else seemed to go near that area of the room.

When she and Remus approached, they all looked up, and James folded the parchment as if he wanted to appear casual. "Calyxa," he said by way of greeting. He did not bother to stand up nor offer her a chair. The others took another second to recover from the surprise of seeing here there.

"Good evening," she said politely. "Sirius, may I speak with you?"

To his credit, he got to his feet. Someone had obviously taught him good manners. "With me?" he asked. "If you want."

The usual buffoonery and smugness was missing as he eyed her. At least he was in a state of mind to listen to a genuine apology. Usually, she grew uneasy around him and James because they talked so quickly and in English idioms that she could not understand. Now, though, they would not.

"I would like to apologize for this afternoon," she said. "I spoke in anger and did not mean those words. I have regretted them this whole time."

He blinked. Something was churning in him – he really was much more complicated than the ridiculous, flirtatious persona that he used among his friends.

"I do not think at all that you are stupid," she went on. "I ask your forgiveness, for I only spoke such a thing in concern for my friend."

The pain she felt from him was strong enough that she immediately clamped down on her senses, just as Professor Dumbledore was teaching her to do. It was enough, and she breathed in relief. With that sense closed, she relied on her others: she looked him with her eyes for the first time. He was a tall, well-made boy, very pretty. Maybe the prettiest boy she had ever seen. He was frowning, though, concealing whatever pain had coursed through him, and wondering how to respond.

He forced a laugh. "No need to apologize; I deserved it."

Was that all he was going to say? She waited, and the silence was uncomfortable, for the other boys were watching and listening. Others in the common room had gone quiet, but she and Sirius had not spoken loudly enough for others to hear.

"Very well," she said. She dared not open herself to his feelings, yet she could not judge his feelings based upon her observations. "If you wish," she added, "you may tell Professor Flitwick that I fancy him above all others in this school."

He laughed as did the others. The painful moment had passed, and Calyxa found it possible to loosen her control on her senses again. "No way," said Sirius. "Can't have him getting a big head on that little body of his."

The comment displeased her, so she did not smile even as the other boys laughed. "You speak too unkindly of a very dear wizard," she remarked a bit softly. "But let me bid you goodnight." She held out her hand to him in the proper manner to bid farewell to a gentleman.

Without a second's hesitation, he took her hand and bowed formally. Yes, someone had certainly instilled him with excellent manners – when he chose to employ them. "Goodnight, Princess."

"I am not a princess," she reminded him.

"Maybe not." He let go of her hand. "But you _are_." His familiar mischievous grin appeared, and he winked at her.

She chose to take that as a compliment and merely nodded in acknowledgement. "Goodnight, gentlemen," she said to Peter and James. As they were responding, she turned to look at Remus.

"I'll walk you back to Ravenclaw Tower," he said quickly.

Of course he would. That boy had more manners than the rest of them combined. "I am glad that it is over," she admitted once they had departed through the portrait hole and were alone in the corridor.

"Were you nervous?" he asked as he walked next to her.

"Nervous?" She considered the meaning of this word. "No. But it is an unpleasant task to apologize. Especially when one is apologizing to... someone who likes to joke very much."

"Yeah." Remus considered it for a minute before he spoke again. "You don't like James and Sirius much, do you?"

His question worried her. "That is not true. Do I... act impolitely towards them?" she asked anxiously.

"No, no, not at all," he assured her. "You have beautiful manners. It's just that you seem to avoid them."

What to say? These were his closest friends. She considered her words, walking more slowly. "When they speak, it is amusing, but I cannot understand everything."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I can't imagine them being so amusing if they had to speak in a foreign language."

That he understood did not surprise her. "It is very difficult to speak in reply to them," she went on. "By the time I understand what they say, they move on to a new speech."

They were walking very slowly now. "Sometimes I feel the same way, and English is my native language." He considered what she had said. "Is that why you are such good friends with Sonnagh? Because he speaks Italian?"

She looked at him with a sad smile. "It is a beautiful thing to speak my language after a whole day of speaking English. It gives me a good feeling, very relaxing."

"I can appreciate that."

There was silence between them. Calyxa searched for an English word to describe how they walked. Strolling. Meandering. Sometimes his right arm bumped into her left arm. It was so very pleasant to be with him, for he was a pearl beyond compare, smooth and exquisite. If only they could never reach the Ravenclaw Tower, she thought with a sigh to herself. Of course, they did, and she turned to smile at him just outside the entrance.

Remus cleared his throat. "Calyxa," he began, and his voice sounded strange. "You, you... the Halloween Dance. You know. Would you like to go with me?"

The words were strange and the manner in which he had spoken them even stranger. "Halloween Dance?" she repeated. "I do not know this. What is _Halloween_?"

"It's – it's a holiday." His voice was tight, and he swallowed hard.

Calyxa studied him. He was uncomfortable as if he had some difficult words to tell her. A holiday dance? Suddenly, she understood. In an informal and charmingly awkward way, he was asking to escort her to the dance.

"You honor me," she replied with a warm smile. "I should be delighted." There were few things she enjoyed as much as dancing.

He seemed to not know what to say. "Really? That's great."

"I have not heard of this dance or this holiday."

"Maybe it's got a different name in Italian," he suggested.

"I shall ask Sonnagh during our lesson next week." She extended her hand to him, and he took it but did not bow. "Thank you for the invitation. I like very much dancing."

He was smiling at her, and his face was lit with happiness like the soft light of the stars. By Losna, he was too beautiful by far! "It'll be fun," he said.

She squeezed his hand. "Goodnight," she bid him before turning to enter the Ravenclaw common room.

* * *

Acknowledgements: Thanks to Vaughn, Phoneix, and Clara Minutes for beta-reading. Thanks to Memory for advice on being Italian. 

Notes: I'm happy to say that I've got my GA. That means that the EPA (the Federal Government) is giving me a grant to cover tuition and fees as well as a stipend! That being said, there may be a delay in putting up the next chapter.


	21. What Peter and Severus Saw

**Chapter 20: What Peter and Severus Saw**

On an inclement Saturday a week later, James and Sirius had Quidditch practice, so Peter tagged along with Remus to the library. He had actually promised James to look for a book to help with one of the safeguards they were going to put on The Map, but once there, he was distracted. Remus actually sat down and got to work while Peter went over to talk to Maureen Clement and ask her to the Halloween dance.

When Remus was done and asked him if he was ready to go, Peter realized with a pang of guilt that he had neither done any of his homework nor looked for the book that James wanted. He said goodbye to Maureen, who had agreed to go to the dance with him.

He and Remus left the library together and took a shortcut back to their common room, for it was nearly dinnertime and they were both quite hungry. Remus stopped walking and cocked his head, listening. "What's that?"

The sound of music was coming from one of the empty classrooms. What was someone doing? Going closer, they could hear it was a stringed instrument and a girl singing. Peter could not make out the words.

He followed Remus, who opened the door to the classroom and stood watching the scene before him. Calyxa di Janarra, the little Italian witch whom Sirius fancied, was sitting on the teacher's desk playing some type of instrument like a small guitar and singing in Italian. All around her in the air danced little toys: glass ornaments, enchanted dolls, pretty paper birds, and colorful twists of smoke all swirled around her in rhythm to the merry song. An ugly monkey and a penguin wearing a beret waltzed around on the desk; a sleek falcon soared and swooped in a lazy circle; and an unnervingly real image of the waning crescent moon hung in front of her.

As they stood in awe and shock watching and listening, the music stopped abruptly, the girl gasped, and the toy falcon hurtled towards them with a fierce cry. All the enchanted toys clattered to the floor, many of which shattered, and the crescent moon spun around and rose up through the ceiling.

"Cacciala!" she called, and the falcon swerved away from them with another cry.

Because he had not had time to draw his wand, Peter had thrown up his arms to protect his face from the bird's attack. Now, he lowered his arms.

"Sorry," Remus said to Calyxa and then took out his wand. "_Reparo_."

The exquisite glass ornaments all reassembled, but the girl, who had gotten to her feet, stood watching them and said nothing.

"I'm sorry," Remus repeated, hitching his bookbag up higher on his shoulder. "We were taking a shortcut and heard the music."

"Those other boys…" she began with an anxious frown, looking at both of them. "They are not with you?"

Peter got the impression that she was afraid. He actually liked her because she treated him just the same as she treated the others. Most girls paid more attention to Sirius or James, but Calyxa didn't. That, and she obviously couldn't stand Sirius, which filled Peter with glee. It was about time that Sirius fancied someone who despised him! With great pleasure, Peter recalled the moment when the quiet little witch had glared at Sirius and declared he was a cretin, and Sirius had recoiled as if she had struck him.

"No," continued Remus. "We were just looking a few things up in the library." He grinned. "How do you do that? That was really amazing."

She smiled back, seeming relieved. "I am practicing magic without a wand," she admitted. "It is easier for me to do when I am playing my lute."

"Without a wand?" Peter asked with interest, coming a little further into the room. "Is that possible?"

"Of course. Well, people Apparate all the time, no? And Professor McGonagall can transform into a cat without a wand."

"I guess you're right." He leaned on one of the desks. "What else can you do?"

"I do not know," she replied. "I only began to practice it last year."

"Do they teach wandless magic in Italy?" Remus asked.

She smiled again and began to put her lute into her bookbag. "No. I just read about it myself." She put in the monkey and the penguin and stooped to collect some of the glass ornaments. "Am I going to have in the detention?" she asked, straightening up and looking at Remus.

"What?" Remus looked at her in confusion for a second, and when he realized that she was worried about getting in trouble, he chuckled. "Oh, no. Of course not. Just be careful next time."

As he saw his friend smiling at her, it suddenly struck Peter that Remus fancied her. He was quiet and a bit serious around girls, especially as compared to the others, so it wasn't easy to see. Interesting. Peter hid a grin and pasted a serious expression on his face. Wouldn't it be great if Remus asked her to the dance? It would be revenge on Sirius for luring away Gwen Cogan, for one, and Sirius deserved it.

He wondered if it would be a good idea to leave them alone together. Maybe then Remus would get up the nerve to ask her out, or something. "I just remembered, I left something in the library," he said, and both Remus and Calyxa looked at him with frowns. "I'm going to go back."

"Should I wait for you?" asked Remus.

"No, no, I'll see you later." He turned and hurried back the way he came, wondering if Maureen would still be in the library or if she'd already gone down to dinner. And it wasn't until much, much later that he realized his own stupidity, that Remus was alone with her all the time during their Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.

* * *

As expected, James had been annoyed that Peter hadn't found the book. Although he sighed and pretended to be sorry, Peter secretly enjoyed it. He liked being able to annoy James. 

A few nights later, the two of them and Sirius went to the library after dinner while Remus was at a prefect's meeting. James had a list of things to look up for The Map. The three of them split up to find the books more quickly. Peter started to look for his, but he saw Snape sitting at one of the tables beyond the last few racks. He peered around and saw Calyxa next to him concentrating very hard on writing something. They sat with their backs to Peter. Snape had his right hand resting on the back of Calyxa's chair, and every time she moved, her hair, woven into a heavy plait, would brush over his knuckles. The girl asked a question, and Snape replied; then, however, he went back to watching the way her plait slid over the back of his hand.

Peter reasoned that she was probably the only girl in the school who was actually nice to Snape. Of course, she _had_ to be nice since he was her tutor, but this was a perfect opportunity to annoy Sirius! Peter was still convinced that his friend fancied the "princess" and knew a bit of gossip that would send him into a rage.

"Hey, Sirius," he whispered, gesturing for the other boy to come over to where he was standing. "Look at this."

"What?" Sirius growled. "Haven't you got any of them yet, useless?" He came over, though, and when he saw Snape sitting with Calyxa, he stopped and frowned.

"You know what?" Peter told him in a low whisper. "Snivellus asked her to go to one of Slughorn's parties with him."

"What?" Sirius swung to glare at him, not believing it.

"And she went with him!" Peter's voice squeaked with excitement, but Sirius didn't notice.

The taller boy glanced over at them again. Calyxa half stood up and stretched across the table to reach her Potions textbook. As she did, her robes pulled tight, and Snape's eyes followed the movements of her body. In truth, Peter's did as well.

Sirius didn't miss any of it. He stalked over to their table – Peter felt a jolt of excitement. Was he going to resort to violence? Edging a little closer, Peter waited to see what was going to happen.

"Hey, Princess," Sirius called, and she looked up in surprise. Snape was on his feet in an instant with his wand in his hand. "How about going to the Halloween Dance with me?"

Peter clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Only Sirius could be conceited enough to not realize that the girl hated him! This was _way _too good!

There was silence, and Snape looked from one to the other and back.

"You are very kind, and I thank you," she replied politely and with a smile, "but unfortunately, I cannot."

"Oh," said Sirius, not looking at all disappointed, "going with someone already, eh? Who are you going with?"

She blinked, seemingly uncertain of how to reply. Peter suspected that she wasn't going with anyone at all and was just too unused to lying to make up a story that quickly.

"Come off it, Black, you can see she just doesn't want to go with _you_," said Snape with an unpleasant grin. He still held his wand although he had lowered it to his side.

"Don't tell me you're going with this slimy git," sneered Sirius. "He'll get his grease all over your pretty Italian robes."

Looking wretched, she shook her head at Sirius, but she had no words to reply to him. Peter was in heaven and moved closer. That polite princess would never forgive him for this! Then he saw a drop of blood on her face. Had Snape hit her with a stray hex? He hadn't appeared to use his wand.

"Sirius," Peter said, gesturing towards her because Snape and Sirius were glaring at each other.

When he saw the little drop of red blood she had wept, Sirius frowned in concern. "Hey – are you all right?" He put one hand on the table and leaned down to look more closely at her.

She pressed her hand against her forehead as if in pain.

"What is it?" he asked in concern.

"Nothing," she managed in a wavering voice.

"Calyxa," he said quietly. "You need to go to the healers."

"No," whispered Calyxa. She opened her eyes and a few more tears of blood streaked her face.

Peter felt himself go cold. What could have injured her that way?

"You're hurt," Sirius told her as gently as possible. "You need to go to see Madam Pomfrey. Do you think you can walk?"

"Let me… just sit… just a minute," she said weakly.

Sirius looked up at Snape. "What was the curse?" he demanded.

"It wasn't me," Snape snapped, but Peter thought he looked a bit worried, as if he was afraid of getting in trouble.

"What on earth is going on here?" They hadn't heard Madam Pince approaching, and now she stood glaring at them with her hands on her hips.

The three boys all looked at her with guilty expressions; Sirius was the first to recover. "Sorry, ma'am, but something's wrong with Calyxa, and we're trying to convince her to go with us to Madam Pomfrey."

"Good heavens!" The librarian reached to touch the girl's face. "What happened? Did one of these boys do this?"

"No," she answered with a wan smile. "It happens like this to me sometimes."

"You must go to hospital," said Madam Pince firmly. "Now, Mr. Snape, you are the tutor, aren't you?"

The boy nodded.

"You will take Miss di Janarra down to see Madam Pomfrey." Sirius began to protest, but she cut him off. "Not another word."

Calyxa got to her feet rather slowly, and Snape escorted her towards the library exit. She looked unwell and walked very slowly, and Peter wondered if she could make it as far as the hospital wing.

"Mr. Black, put this parchment and the books in her bag and see that one of the Ravenclaw students takes it back to the dormitory."

"Yes, ma'am," answered Sirius, but he looked angry. As Madam Pince walked away, he sighed and began stuffing Calyxa's things into her bookbag. "Bloody idiot!" he muttered.

Peter came up beside him. "You think he hexed her on purpose?"

"Cripes, Wormtail!" Sirius snarled, "Why do you have to be so bloody stupid?"

What had he said? And why was Sirius so vehement? Was he really that sweet on the girl? And _that_ jealous of Snape?

"You don't really think she _likes_ him?" he asked. "Do you?"

"Snivellus and the princess?" asked Sirius with a sharp laugh. "You're sick." He jerked the flap of her brown leather bag closed and pulled the strap over his shoulder. "At least she hasn't got a poncy bag."

* * *

As he walked next to Calyxa, Severus was wondering what had caused her injury. He hadn't used any curses or hexes, and he was fairly sure that Black hadn't either. Of course, Black could have done it on the sly with the intention of getting Severus in trouble; however, that was not something a Gryffindor would do. It was more of a Slytherin trick. 

Of course, Black had only asked Calyxa out for one reason: to rub it in Severus's face that he was popular with girls, that even Calyxa would prefer him to greasy little Snivellus. Only it hadn't worked quite like Black had planned it.

It was hard to imagine her saying that she couldn't go with him unless she really had another date; however, when Black had asked her who she was going with, she hadn't answered. Although it was probably because she hadn't understood what he had asked, it had seemed for a moment like she had been trying to make up a polite lie to avoid hurting him with the truth that she didn't really want to go with him. Severus knew quite well what it was like to receive such a polite lie in response to an invitation, and he was glad to witness Black on the receiving end for once.

As for the odd little Italian witch, he didn't really care about her, nor was he interested in hearing about her life in Italy, but the other girls at Hogwarts had known him too many years, so he didn't have a chance with any of them. Calyxa was new, and he imagined he'd have a chance before anyone else got to her. He had never taken a girl anywhere, and he wanted a chance, at least.

She seemed to have some intellect, for even though she had no talent for potions and didn't always understand English, she never had a problem with the concepts. It was probably a good thing that she wasn't pretty; other boys might be pursuing her. She was all right, he supposed. Not ugly even though she had those weird eyebrows that made her look a bit strange, and she certainly had a ripe, curvy body that every boy at the school admired. _No complaints there_, he would agree with the Slytherin boys who occasionally made rude remarks about her.

Unlike most girls, she hardly ever said anything unnecessary and never giggled, which was a huge relief. She didn't look at him with disgust, like some other girls did. He didn't imagine that she fancied him, but on four different occasions, she had exclaimed in admiration that he was brilliant or he was a genius. He guessed that she recognized he was intelligent and talented. It was something; it was better than nothing. In addition, she often touched him without seeming to realize what she was doing, usually on the arm or hand, which he liked more than he'd admit.

He had asked her if she wanted to go to a party that Professor Slughorn was giving so that she could meet more people. Being terrified that she might frown and look at him in disgust, he made the invitation casually. Almost as an offhand remark. As if he was doing her a favor in including her.

Of course, she had looked at him seriously with her eyes not seeming to really see him and replied that she was honored and would be delighted Then he had felt awkward, for excitement flooded him in one huge rush while he tried to maintain an aloof exterior, as if he didn't care either way if she went with him or not.

His brooding thoughts were interrupted when Calyxa sat down rather suddenly halfway down a staircase. He stopped and sighed in annoyance. It was bad enough that he had to actually go with her to the hospital wing! Was he going to have to stop and wait for her every ten steps?

He sat down on the same step. She leaned back against the wall with her eyes closed, and she looked weary. "Black didn't hit you with something, did he?" he asked her. He almost wished the arrogant prat had!

"No." Her eyes opened. "Could you not tell?" She smiled and looked a little better. "It was you who was hurting me."

"Me?" he asked in shock, on the defensive. "I wasn't doing anything!"

"No, you did nothing." She closed her eyes again. "Severus… will you help me back to my dormitory?"

"You need to see Madam Pomfrey," he reminded her.

"I do not. This has happened to me before. It is a weakness in me to be very sensitive to pain." She opened her eyes and sat up. "It is silly to go all that way when I know quite well that all I need is sleep."

The idea was appealing: Ravenclaw Tower was much closer than the hospital wing. "Are you sure?"

"I am, but I am afraid I shall need to lean on you," she said in a rather apologetic tone.

His heartbeat increased. He wouldn't at all mind having her lean on him. Quite the contrary. "I suppose you will. Just tell me what I should do."

Taking a deep breath, she began to get to her feet with one hand braced against the wall behind her. He stood as well and waited, frowning and uncertain. She reached to grasp his arm and moved closer, so he bent his arm at the elbow and held it stiff. She held his upper arm with both hands and began to descend the stairs.

Being this close to her was somewhat overwhelming, but he liked it. He could smell the delicate perfume she wore along with that soft girl scent that drove him mad whenever he sat close to certain girls. Getting down the stairs was difficult, but once they had reached the floor below, it was easier. She leaned against him and walked slowly, and he allowed himself to enjoy it. In his mind, he played with the idea of putting his arm around her waist, but he knew he would never risk it.

"Who are you going to the dance with?" he asked her.

"Pardon me?"

"I was wondering who asked you to the dance."

"Oh. My escort is Remus."

Lupin? It wasn't such a huge surprise that she was going with one of her tutors, though she seemed to get along best with Sonnagh Mitchell. On the other hand, had Black asked her even though she was going with one of his friends? Was it possible that Black didn't know? Severus considered it. Maybe there was some sort of animosity between the boys.

"That day, Halloween, is the night where we remember the dead," she continued. "Janarra consider it a sacred time and very solemn. It is strange to me to have a dance on such a day, but my mother and Professor Dumbledore have given permission to celebrate with a Ceremony of the Dead before the dance. I would be honored if you would be one of my guests for that ceremony."

One of her guests? What did that mean? "Is Lupin going?"

"Certainly, along with Lily, Sonnagh, and the girls in my dormitory. I have also invited Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick, but perhaps they are too busy."

All four tutors, then. He wondered if that's why she was going to the dance with Lupin, for convenience. And Lily Evans was going. Severus sighed. If only a girl like _that_ would go out with him! "Okay, I'll go."

"I am glad," she said. "Whom will you escort to the dance?"

He knew that she asked only to be polite and to show interest. "No, I'm not going."

"Not going? _Losna!_ Why not?"

He actually smiled a little, though it was a wry smile. "I don't dance."

"Not dance!" She muttered something in Italian. "You _must_ dance. And there are many girls who have no escort. You cannot be so selfish as to deny a young lady an escort."

He knew she was just a year younger, but something about her made her seem very young, naïve, and vulnerable. Against his better judgment, it made him feel a bit protective of her. He considered saying something flirtatious, something that girls liked, such as _but if I can't take you, I don't want to take anyone_, but even thinking of saying it made him cringe.

"Maybe I'll go," he said, but he was thinking of attending her ceremony and then walking into the Great Hall afterwards with Lily Evans.

* * *

Sorry about the long delay. I've been down with the stomach flu for two weeks, and I'm still not able to eat normally. 


	22. What Regulus Saw

**Chapter 21: What Regulus Saw**

All things considered, Regulus Black knew he had it far easier than his brother Sirius. Of course, Sirius was the elder, so much was expected of him, but he had also taken the brunt of their parents' displeasure while the boys were growing up. Not that it was easy growing up second, but Regulus was the baby, and, compared to Sirius, he had been coddled and petted. As far back as he could remember, Sirius had been defying their parents and suffering the extremely painful consequences. Truth be told, there had been times when he hadn't thought Sirius would survive his punishments.

They had never been great friends, nor had they been enemies. Regulus had always been a trifle envious of the firstborn status, and when Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, Regulus had secretly hoped that his parents would disown his older brother. Of course, they hadn't, but it had been close. Dad had even written to Dumbledore suggesting that the Sorting Hat had made a grievous error.

Since then, every transgression, every infraction, every detention, and every interaction with a non-pureblood girl had been observed, documented, and reported. Sirius was still older, of course, but he was on shaky ground as the heir.

At school, they lived very separate lives, so when he saw Sirius at the Halloween Dance with a tall girl in tangerine-colored robes, he paid little attention. Sirius always picked inappropriate girls whom Mum said were from the gutter.

Regulus had not found it difficult to find a date for the dance: little was difficult for Regulus Black. Tonight, he escorted Clementia Ogden, who came from a pureblood family but was not the most skilled of dancers, so they had to stand out during the most difficult dances. Although he had learned how to dance quite well, he wasn't too fond of it, so he didn't much mind standing out.

Then he saw Sirius dancing a feisty polka with an absolute goddess in white robes. Regulus was as struck as everyone else; maybe even a bit more so, because he knew that she was not the type of girl that his brother generally fancied. Someone told him she was the new student from a family of Italian nobility. Apparently, her father was a prince from an ancient Venetian family, and her mother was a noblewoman as well.

Oddly enough, she reminded him of Cousin Andromeda. Though the two witches didn't look anything alike, Andromeda had looked lovely and glowing with happiness when she had been pregnant. He sniggered and wondered what the girl and Sirius had been doing.

She was silvery and bright, almost like a lantern covered by a paper shade, and her robes were pure white. Not a common or popular color anytime, it was especially unusual in autumn and was certainly not a typical color for Halloween. Everyone looked at them. At her, Regulus told himself. In her white robes, she was highly visible, and as Sirius spun her around, little bits of light spilled from her, little droplets of light that evaporated quickly. What kind of magic was that? He had never seen anything like it, and from the reactions of those around him, neither had anyone else.

Regulus's eyes traveled up and down her buxom form not twice but three times and wondered how Mum and the other dynasty-plotting ladies would react if a well-bred witch that looked like _that_ was dancing at one of their balls. The thought made him laugh, but he knew that Sirius would not be interested in anyone of whom Mum might approve. On the other hand, it might be worth witnessing even if he lost out on being the Black heir.

The dance was a fast one, and on the sparsely populated dance floor, Sirius polkaed the young lady expertly all over, singing and grinning, making a spectacle of both of them. She followed, matching each step and responding to each nuance. When he increased the pace, she kept up with him. He spun her faster and faster, but she made no missteps. Little bits of light surrounded them wherever they went.

It was hard to imagine that any Italian noblemen made princesses follow such a demanding lead, but she was laughing out loud and obviously having a wonderful time. Maybe she was used to having boys spin her really fast.

The dance ended, and Sirius disappeared among his Gryffindor friends with the girl in white. After that, Regulus kept an eye out for them. The dance floor was crowded more often than not, but for an instant, he caught sight of her dancing a sedate two-step with one of Sirius's friends, Lupin.

When the musicians tuned up for the fast waltz, only a few couples went out onto the floor. Conspicuous among them were Sirius and the girl in white. As they danced, he and the girl were smiling at each other, and Regulus wondered if they were in love.

It was no surprise that Sirius increased the pace and flamboyance of their movements. As before, the little witch matched him perfectly, step for step. At first, Regulus had thought that they were an awfully odd couple because Sirius was too tall for her. That was soon forgotten as he watched them gliding, spinning, and swinging across the floor.

Moonstruck, Regulus thought. There was no other word to describe it. As Sirius and the girl danced, those liquid droplets of light, silvery light, scattered around them and disappeared. The students and the staff stood watching, and even the castle's ghosts watched in a kind of rapture. Regulus knew what it meant. Tonight, the daughter of a prince danced with the Black heir like the ripple of the night wind on summer grass. He recognized that it was magic, ancient and powerful, and he assumed that the pair really was in love. His haughty, handsome brother made an exquisite couple with the witch in white. They were beautiful together. Sirius, always restless, seemed to have found his princess, and that meant that Regulus's luck had run out.

When the final strains of the waltz sounded, the girl sank into a deep curtsy as Sirius bowed formally, and the hall erupted into applause. Laughing, red-faced, she took the arm that he offered, but before he could lead her across the room to his friends, Regulus strode over to them. He knew that no matter what happened, Sirius would not do anything to embarrass the young lady.

"Well, it seems as though you actually made use of the dance lessons," he said. "Mum will be interested to hear that you actually can make it through one dance without treading on a girl's slippers."

Sirius turned to his girl, frowning and jaw tight. "Princess, this is my brother, Regulus."

All his life had prepared Regulus for this moment, and he bowed to the princess with a polite smile.

"This is Princess Calyxa di Janarra of Venice."

"I am happy to know you," she said with exquisite diction, extending her hand to him with an elegant flare.

Regulus took her hand and performed his best formal bow. He had had enough practice. "Princess, it's an honor to meet you." When he straightened up, he looked from his brother to the girl and back. "I'm surprised that you're allowed to go out with someone like him."

She frowned, and Sirius took firm hold of her arm. "With that kind of attitude, you're certainly not going to be invited to the wedding," he snapped before leading her away.

Rooted to the spot, Regulus stared after his brother with his mouth ajar. _Wedding?_ Was it possible that Sirius was _engaged_? To a pureblood girl? And nobility as well?

As he roused himself and began to head back to his friends, Regulus wondered if their parents knew about this.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** _The usual thanks to Vaughn, Phoenix, Clara Minutes, Memory, and Finrod the Faithful._


	23. What Remus Saw

**Chapter 22: What Remus Saw**

Remus could not concentrate on his Charms homework. James and Sirius had already finished theirs and now sat working quietly on the map. He knew they would let him copy; he had certainly let them copy off him often enough. Peter was still laboring away on the questions from his Arithmancy homework, and since no one else was taking that class, he couldn't copy. So, since it wasn't necessary to do anything other than daydream, Remus just let his mind wander.

Ever since he had started liking girls, he had struggled with the truth of his own identity. How could any girl stand to have a werewolf as a boyfriend? He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to even kiss him, never mind something more intimate. Especially not a nice girl. His very soul was tortured by the idea that he would always be alone, that no one would ever want _him_. How could a girl love a monster?

When such thoughts occurred, he forced himself to shake them off and tell himself to stop being so maudlin and feeling sorry for himself. He was lucky to even have the chance to attend Hogwarts, and no matter what happened, he had to remember how lucky he was. Especially now.

From the first moment that he had seen Calyxa, however, he knew that there was something vastly different about her, but he didn't know what. Of course, she was very pretty with those enchanting eyes that seemed to see the very core of his being. She was also the nicest girl to ever come to Hogwarts. Nice and so terribly vulnerable that he felt fiercely protective of her.

In the beginning, Sirius had seemed interested in her as well, filling Remus with dread. Soon, though, he had seen there was nothing to worry about. Sirius was no more interested in her than in any pretty girl, and Calyxa disliked him. She always behaved with impeccable manners, but it wasn't difficult to see that Sirius irked her, as did James, to a lesser extent.

_Anyway, he'd never get a girl like that on the back of his motorbike_, Remus often told himself.

No, she was different all right. During their lessons, they had practiced different spells on her toy monkey and penguin, but she was reluctant to cast anything at him, even a Feather Pillow Hex, so he knew he'd eventually have to enlist aid in that measure.

They had also discussed vampires, dragons, werewolves, and other creatures. Calyxa had admitted that she feared dragons, but she had always had a soft spot in her heart for them because of an Italian children's song called _The Littlest Dragon_. She had played it on her lute and sung it for him, and he had been completely charmed by it. By her.

During their discussion of werewolves, he had forced himself to act nonchalant. She did not fear werewolves, she insisted. How could she? "For I am a child of Losna, the Moon Goddess," she had told him matter-of-factly. "How can I fear one who is a slave to Leukothia? She is just another aspect of the Goddess."

There was such absolute certainty, almost arrogance, in the things she said. In someone so quiet and gentle, it was an endearing quality. The way she talked made him almost believe that anything was possible if they put their minds to it with focus and determination.

Asking her to the dance had taken a lot of courage. What if she had said no? What if she had already made a date with someone else? What if she really fancied some other fellow? But he had thought that, maybe, she was fond of him.

Very powerfully, the thought that she was fond of him tugged at Remus's heartstrings. For a moment, it was hard to breathe. "Someday a girl will like you on the _inside_," his mother had told him, "and then it won't be a problem. She'll smile and look sweetly at you, and being a werewolf will be only a minor consideration."

Calyxa looked sweetly at him. It made his heart ache. Girls usually liked Sirius, who was extremely good-looking, or James, who was witty and cool, but she did not.

_It's because she can see them on the inside_, he heard his mother say, _and she sees how much nicer you are…_

She had agreed to go with him, of course, and had invited him to her Halloween ritual, the memory of which shook him to the core. He had seen the face of his grandmother who had died the previous year; he had seen Calyxa smiling and holding the moon in both hands; and when she had embraced him, he had felt the moon _inside him_. He thought that it would have roused and riled the wolf, but it had had the opposite effect: the wolf had lain down, rolled on his back, and stretched luxuriously before falling into a deep, lovely slumber. He hadn't awakened for a few days and had been quite docile since then.

Dancing with her had been better than anything he had imagined. She had been radiant, and he had hardly been able to keep from staring at her. Even having Sirius throw himself at her hadn't mattered at all. For the first slow dance, he had not known where to put his hands until she guided them to her back. Easing closer, their bodies had leaned against each other. _Wow, she feels good_, Remus had thought.

Her arms slid around his neck, soft, fragrant white arms, and she laid her head upon his shoulder. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, concentrating on the gorgeous sensation of holding her, and his arms wrapped around her. _This is paradise_, he told himself, and then he felt her nuzzling his neck…

The appearance of the young lady herself with Lily Evans roused Remus from his daydream, but no one else had noticed yet. "Is something wrong?" he asked immediately, getting up.

The others glanced at him in confusion before turning to see what he was looking at. Startled, awkward, the other boys straightened up when the girls came over to their table. James went rigid.

"Forgive me for interrupting," Calyxa said. In her hand, she was clutching a letter. "Sirius, may I speak with you?"

"Me?" he asked in surprise as he stood up. "Need to apologize for something?"

Remus wanted to smack him for his awful insensitivity. Couldn't he see how hard it was for her come here and speak to him? And how much harder he made it?

Calyxa came around to his side of the table and held out a bit of parchment to him. "I have received this very strange letter, and you must see it."

With a frown, he took the parchment and scanned it.

James offered his chair to Lily. "What is it?" he asked too low for Sirius or Calyxa to hear.

She waved off his offer of the chair. "Thanks, but I can't stay," she told him. "She had a letter from _his mother_ in today's owls."

The news was enough to startle the boys into silence. They all looked over to where Calyxa was waiting while Sirius read the letter.

"She came up to me, frowning, and asked if I'd bring her in here to see him," she explained. "She seemed... I don't know, unsettled. Listen, I've got to get back – Remus, could you make sure she gets back to her common room? "

"Sure," he agreed.

"I guessed you wouldn't mind," she teased gently as she made her way back to the portrait hole. James's eyes followed her wistfully, but he didn't say anything.

"No!" they heard Sirius mutter angrily. "No! You can just tell her that it's beneath you to be seen _consorting_ with one of her caliber!" He flung the letter away, and it fluttered to the floor.

There was dead silence in the common room; everyone was watching and listening. Calyxa gazed at him with her intense eyes. "I could not say such a thing to anyone," she replied calmly.

"Then have a bloody marvelous time dissecting me over a pot of tea," he snarled, turning and striding back to the table. He slammed his chair back against the wall so hard that the paintings shuddered against the walls and started complaining.

In the ensuing silence, the girl wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Ignoring, or not seeming to notice, the others, she closed her eyes and drew in a very deep, slow breath.

Remus, Peter, and James all looked at one another wide-eyed. It was Remus who was elected to speak. "Is it bad news?"

Sirius said nothing but flopped down in his chair. Calyxa's eyes opened and she looked at them, frowning and obviously upset.

James stood up and faced the students around the room who were watching in interest. "All right, everyone go back to whatever you were doing," he ordered.

Calyxa retrieved the letter and came back to the table, so Remus held a chair for her. "There was a joke. I had thought it was a joke. At the Halloween Dance, he told his brother that we would be married and not invite him to the wedding. It was rather stupid, I had thought."

"Yes, another of us stupid Black boys," Sirius growled too low for the others in the room to hear. "Bloody arsehole, my brother. Wonder if he sent an owl to my mum that night."

"What does the letter say?" Remus asked.

"You may read it," Calyxa told him, holding it out.

He took it from her hand and cleared his throat before beginning to read.

_Dear Princess Calyxa,_

_My husband and I were delighted to discover that our eldest son and heir, Sirius, has been courting you._

James snorted and Remus blinked at the words on the page. "_Courting_ you?" James laughed. "How medieval!"

Remus shook his head and began to read again.

_I plan on visiting the Hogwarts School on or about the twenty-seventh. At that time, I hope to have the pleasure of your company for afternoon tea. I am looking forward to meeting you, the young lady who has honored us by choosing our son as a suitor._

_I remain, with all best wishes..._

Remus looked up at them. "Awfully formal, eh?"

"Trying to impress you?" asked Peter.

"Perhaps." Calyxa's face was dark and angry as she took back the letter and folded it. "When I first read it, I was struck, for it is not a letter written by any kind of gentlewoman. It is rather appalling, actually. This is not the letter of an earnest mother who cares about her son but rather of a coarse woman playing at gentility that she does not understand."

"A cat's a better mother," Sirius muttered.

"I bet she's just crowing to anyone who'll listen about you marrying a princess," said James with a sigh. "A _real_ princess for the heir of the House of Black."

"The girls were talking about some Italian prince that proposed to you," said Peter.

"_Proposed_?" exclaimed Remus, feeling as if his insides were freezing.

"No," said Calyxa with a smile at the shocked look on his face. "That was not a proposal."

Her smile reassured Remus, who began to breathe again. At the same time, an idea occurred to him, and he considered it.

"Will you go?" asked James. "To tea, I mean?"

"I shall have to. I have no choice; it would be unforgivably rude to refuse such an invitation."

Sirius let out a humorless bark of laughter.

"But what if..." started Remus slowly, "what if... what if Mrs. Black came to tea and met a spoiled, demanding princess who wanted the Blacks to meet some... _requirements_ before she'd consider marrying into the family?"

They all stared at him at first. "Moony, you're a genius," said James in admiration.

"For example, Sirius could write to his mum and say that Calyxa has her eye on another Quidditch player," Remus explained. "One with a better broom. Then, he can ask her to buy him a new, faster broom. Top of the line."

The idea made them all laugh except Sirius. "If only!" he said bitterly.

"It's the perfect solution," said Remus, his mind working. "And in repayment, Sirius will help me with your lessons. He'll help me demonstrate some of the magic you're learning. He's good at it."

"You mean, you'd _do_ it?" Sirius sat up and looked at Calyxa eagerly but also as if he could not believe it. "Really?"

At first, she didn't reply. She didn't even move; she just stared at Sirius as if she could read his mind, which unnerved Remus a bit. "It is a role I know how to play," she told them. "And yet..." Her brows lowered into a frown of concentration.

"It certainly _sounds_ like the perfect solution," said James. "You have tea with his mum and give him a bit of breathing room on the home front. He helps you learn the spells in your Defense lessons."

"Yes, yes, it is a fair exchange, but that is not what concerns me." She looked again at Sirius. "I need to speak with you alone. Will you not walk with me a bit?"

Uncertainly, Sirius got up again. "Sure." He frowned at his friends before trailing her out through the portrait hole.

"You're going to let her go with him?" asked Peter in a near whisper.

"_Let_ her?" Remus repeated. Did he really think that Remus could control her? Or would want to? Or that Sirius was going to try and woo her away just because they were alone?

"Shut it." James glared at Peter, and then he turned to Remus. "It's a brilliant idea to have her help, and I'm sure she'll do it since you're the one who thought it up."

Peter turned his eyes back to his homework, and James winked at Remus before bending over the map.

That little exchange concerned Remus. Did they talk about him and Calyxa when he wasn't around? He wondered if Calyxa would go out with Sirius if he asked her. Not that he ever would. She probably wouldn't go out with him. But she had gone out with Snape, at least to one of Slughorn's parties.

After the dance, Remus had gotten a little goodnight kiss from her, but there had been many other people coming back and couples saying goodnight. Out of necessity, it had been one soft brush of his lips against hers, but it had been enough to leave him in bliss for days. It was certainly promising, and he wondered if he dared ask her to go out with him, to be his girlfriend.

Sirius and Calyxa didn't return for what seemed like a long time, but which was probably only about twenty minutes. Remus had thought of what to say, of how to ask her, but when he actually saw her, an attack of nerves made him reconsider. She looked very pale and a bit weary, and Sirius helped her to sit in his chair.

"All right," Sirius told them, standing beside her. "We have more than three weeks to plan. Calyxa is going to write that it has to be a Hogsmeade day."

"I think you should write to your mother," Calyxa said even more slowly than usual as her mind worked, "and tell her that I complained that you have no appropriate robes for afternoon tea and that she should send money to get new robes made for the occasion."

The boys laughed. Peter actually guffawed, and the others chuckled as well. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," James told her.

"Now, I must go to my own dormitory."

"I'll walk you there," said Remus.

"Thank you. Good night."

As they walked through the darkened corridors back to the entrance to Ravenclaw's dormitories, Remus reached to take hold of her hand and hoped that she would not pull hers away. He was not disappointed, for her fingers curled lightly around his hand. It was a heady feeling, and he did not want to do or say anything to ruin it. His mind, however, would not cooperate and turned over all that had occurred.

"What were you and Sirius talking about for so long?" he asked. "You seemed upset when you came back."

There was no reply for several minutes. He wondered if she was searching for words or wondering how much to tell him – and how much to keep from him.

"You know his parents, I think, and his home situation."

"Yeah," he sighed.

She nodded slowly. "I do not easily undertake complicated plots to deceive people," she informed him in such a serious tone that he had to grin. "But in some situations, like his, a deception is the best course of action."

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. They walked in silence for a bit, and then he could stand it no longer. "Did you really have a proposal?" he asked awkwardly.

"No," she replied. "Maffeo Gritti has asked my parents permission to pay court. It is traditional and very silly, I think."

"But you're only fifteen!" he protested.

"Single men have been asking my parents for me since I was a little girl. It is an awful thing, really medieval, as James said. Some of the others were older, much older. Old as my father."

"That's disgusting," he declared, thinking of a lecherous old man trying to kiss her – or worse.

"I agree," she sighed. "But it is the way of the Court of Venice."

How could she speak so calmly about such a thing? "You're – you're not really going to marry some moldy old prince?"

"No, for I am Janarra first and Venier second," she explained. "We are matriarchal, the Janarra, and my father has Marin as his heir."

"And... er... well... what about Sirius?" That worried him far more than any lecherous old prince. "Any possibility that you might marry him?"

"He has not asked me." There was humor in her voice.

"Well... if he does. His mum might make him."

With a sigh, she said, "I understand what you mean. The first point is that I cannot have a formal suitor until I am seventeen, so I must refuse everyone until then."

"That makes sense," he said, but it worried him. Could she have an _informal_ suitor?

"He is cruel sometimes and a terrible bully. I could never take one such as him." She turned to look at him. "A better match would be one such as you."

His heart lurched when he heard that. "Oh, yes, Remus Lupin and the princess," he scoffed immediately to try and quell his riotous emotions. "A Black is definitely better than me!"

"I do not think so." She squeezed his hand a little.

He smiled and flushed. "You're too kind."

"Not at all."

"Well, I'm sure your dad wouldn't let me 'court' you."

"Perhaps not," she said, "but it is my mother's decision in these matters, according to tradition. As I said, we are matriarchal."

"Can she see inside people the same way you can?" he wondered.

She stopped walking and looked at him in surprise, and he stopped as well, confused. "Yes, she can," was all she said as they began to walk again, still clasping hands.

"Then perhaps I stand a chance." The way this conversation was going thrilled him, and he could hardly hear or think because of the pounding of his heart. "Still, I'd be poor competition for Sirius."

She laughed again, a genuine laugh that she had to stifle in the deserted hall. They were walking very slowly now because they did not want to reach their destination. "Well, if that were the case, I could put in a good word for you."

Now, he was enjoying the flirtation. "Would you?" he asked in a warm voice.

"I should be delighted." She looked at him with a soft little smile, and he felt his face growing red.

How could she remain so calm and cool while flirting? He swallowed and endeavored to sound light-hearted. "I bet you say that to all the princes."

"Surprisingly not."

"So, Remus Lupin, Commoner and Gryffindor prefect – how impressive – comes to Venice to pay court to Miss di Janarra. Along with the moldy old princes, of course. I shudder to imagine how your parents would react."

She did not answer right away. Eventually, she said, "I think they would be surprised and pleased."

"Pleased that you had at least one suitor of an appropriate age."

Again, she laughed. "And do not forget my good word."

"Ah, yes. Well, then, let's say, for argument's sake, that this Mr. Lupin wins out and gets to marry the lady. How on earth is he going to afford to keep her? All those expensive robes!"

"Ah, but his new _Mrs_. Lupin will be a famous researcher and will earn plenty of money."

He thought it over. "And poor Mr. Lupin? Will he stay home with the little ones?"

Laughter burst from her. "I like this idea."

They were at Ravenclaw Tower, and she turned to him without withdrawing her hand from his. Now, they were completely alone in the silently, shadowy corridor, and she was standing without speaking and smiling up at him.

He smiled back at her and then looked down at her hand, holding it in both of his. "Do you think…" he began. "Is it allowed… for you to have an _informal_ suitor… one special one?"

"It is allowed," she replied quite seriously. She didn't appear to understand what he was getting at and certainly wasn't making it any easier!

Remus was no coward, so he forced himself to just say it. "Calyxa, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Certainly," she replied with the same seriousness.

Did she understand what it meant? "That means us no other dates. Just me."

"I understand," she said, looking him in the eye and smiling a little, looking at him warmly.

A sort of odd tightness formed in his throat, and he did not think he could speak. Without making a conscious decision, he placed one hand on the side of her face and leaned down to kiss her. Her hands came up and lit upon his shoulder like two little birds, and she kissed him back very sweetly.

He drew her closer and wrapped his arms around her. Soft – warm – delicious. His senses of touch, smell, and taste took over because his eyes were closed and his blood pounded loudly in his ears. Incapable of rational thought, Remus held her tight against him and kissed her.

The kiss ended and they stood for a moment wrapped in the other's arms. The moment was perfect, and in some dim subconscious place, Remus thought that nothing else could ever be as good as this.


	24. What Mrs Black Saw

**Chapter 23: What Mrs. Black Saw**

The large parlor of the Wandering Wizard Inn was certainly no place to receive royalty, Mrs. Walburga Black thought worriedly as she sat stiffly waiting for her guests and gazing in disapproval at the three other occupied tables. It was, however, the only establishment in the useless village with any pretense at elegance. There was no other alternative, she reasoned, hoping that the young Princess Calyxa would not hold such a thing against her and the family.

If the girl's parents had been with her, the inn would not have sufficed, but she was only fifteen or sixteen years old. At that age, even well-bred witches were apt to overlook such shortcomings when in the company of an attractive young man. According to Regulus, both Sirius and the girl were completely besotted with each other and were secretly engaged.

It was an immense stroke of good fortune that the girl who had finally caught Sirius's interest was from an ancient pureblood family. Since receiving the letter from her younger son, Mrs. Black had thoroughly investigated the princess's background and was pleased and impressed. Both the father and the mother were persons of note, and the girl was due to inherit the mother's title of countess. Along with whatever property and fortune went with it, of course. Such a wife would set Sirius up for life as one of the most important members of society's crème de la crème.

As she was indulging in a fantasy of an obedient Sirius settled into a domestic life with his princess and two or three male children, the door opened and a strikingly elegant young woman swept into the vestibule. With her, towering over her, was Sirius in excellent new robes of midnight blue. The princess must have had a hand in choosing them, which pleased her. Sirius had certainly not chosen something so elegant and understated, and neither had any provincial seamstress. No, the girl was already dressing him like a proper wizard, and he was letting her. Excellent. She now had more influence over Sirius than anyone else had ever had; moreover, she was still of a tender and malleable age where she could be persuaded to use her influence over him.

As Sirius took the princess's cloak, Mrs. Black had the opportunity to study her. She was a pale, sweet-looking little thing in exquisite turquoise robes, but not magnificent and beautiful as Regulus had said. Why would he have said such a thing? Not that there was time to worry about that now. Despite Regulus's exaggerations, that girl was every inch a princess and had to be treated as such.

"Hi, Mum." Dutifully, Sirius kissed her cheek. "This is Princess Calyxa di Janarra Venier of Venice."

The fool! The bumbling, idiotic fool! Mrs. Black seethed inwardly and wished she could blast her idiot son through the wall for that botched introduction. The princess outranked her, and Sirius should have introduced his mother to the princess first, not the other way around. Such uncouth manners in this awful inn made them seem _common_.

But Princess Calyxa ignored Sirius's awful gaffe and covered for him by extending her hand first. "I am happy to know you, Mrs. Black."

Such grace! Such elegance! Such gentility of manner! Even if she was not the beauty Regulus had described, she had caught Sirius's interest and had to be valued for that. Perhaps the princess held some attractiveness for teenaged boys to have won over Sirius and impressed Regulus so thoroughly.

"It is a real pleasure to finally meet you after hearing so much about you," said Mrs. Black as she squeezed the girl's fingers lightly. "Won't you sit down, Princess?"

"Thank you, but will you not honor me by calling me Calyxa?"

"How gracious of you." Why had the girl encouraged such familiarity so early? Perhaps it was a sign that she hoped Mrs. Black would be a closer relation, like her mother-in-law.

Thankfully, Sirius politely assisted the princess to sit as a well-mannered young wizard should. One of the serving girls entered with a tea tray and set it down in front of Mrs. Black as unobtrusively as could be expected in such an establishment.

"May I pour you a cup?" she asked as she reached for the teapot.

"Yes, thank you," said the princess. "No milk, please."

As she poured the tea, Mrs. Black said, "I believe you have met my younger son, Regulus. Sirius is the elder, of course."

"I had the honor of being introduced to him," the princess replied as she accepted the cup and saucer. "He is younger, however, and in another House, so I seldom encounter him at the school."

"Yes, we are very proud of him in Slytherin." She cast a disdainful look at Sirius as she passed him a cup of tea. "Generations of Blacks have been sorted into that House."

"Is that so?" asked the princess. "Extraordinary."

"It is widely accepted as the most exclusive and favorable of the Houses. All the great wizards and witches come from Slytherin."

"Not Dumbledore," Sirius volunteered.

The princess laughed. "That is certainly correct. Perhaps it is not so unfortunate that I was not honored by the Sorting Hat and placed into the Grand Old House."

"Ravenclaw is acceptable though definitely second rate," Sirius told her.

"Sirius, really," snapped Mrs. Black with a glare. "Of course he is making a jest in poor taste." Another glare at her son. "Ravenclaw is highly respected for intellectuals in all fields."

"But Gryffindors are worse even than Hufflepuffs," said Sirius.

"That's enough, young man," she told him stiffly.

"I suppose it makes Sirius unique within the family," said the princess with a fond smile at her suitor. "Unique and special."

Although it was subtle, Mrs. Black did not miss the affection in that glance. "Why, yes. Yes, of course. Our Sirius is quite, _quite_ special in the family."

"How lovely." The princess smiled sweetly. "My parents have always said that there are few things more valuable than an affectionate and loving family life."

Sirius, who had been taking a drink of tea, choked a little and coughed to hide his laughter.

"Of course, of course," said Mrs. Black, glaring at Sirius yet again with a murderous look. Had the princess not been there, she would have made him sorry. "Such simple sentiments and so charming a family life. We are blessed to have two such _fine_ sons." She had trouble saying the word 'fine'.

The princess smiled serenely. "Of course, my brother and I grew up in the Court of Venice, which is rather notorious, as you may know." She stopped speaking as the door opened and something caught her eye.

Mrs. Black glanced over at the door and recognized young James Potter. The princess watched him with a smile, and a sharp blade of fear pierced Mrs. Black. The Potters were a respectable wizarding family, and it was not unimaginable that the princess's parents could consider the boy as proper a suitor as Sirius.

"Calyxa, Sirius. Good afternoon," said the boy brightly, coming over to their table. "Mrs. Black, how nice to see you."

Sirius stood up, as did the princess. Her eyes had not left James, and Mrs. Black felt a sense of panic. The princess admired James Potter!

"Didn't know you'd be here," said Sirius somewhat gruffly.

"My Uncle Balthazar was stopping for a visit." He gestured towards an elderly man at another table.

As the three young people exchanged pleasantries, Mrs. Black watched with arctic dread gripping her heart. Something had to be done, but what? This was possibly the only chance they would have to get Sirius under control, and she would not have it ruined by the interference of another boy.

"He's a brilliant Quidditch player," sighed the princess with a rapturous smile when he was gone.

"He's all right," Sirius admitted, but he sounded cross. "Of course, he's got a first-rate broom, you know." He placed his hand over hers.

"Hmm?" She turned and looked at Sirius. "Yes, of course, you are right." She squeezed his hand, and the two smiled at each other in that overly-sweet way of very young lovers before turning back to Mrs. Black.

Though the banal conversation went on, she had seen enough. Princess Calyxa had conquered Sirius and brought him to heel like an obedient hound. She _had_ to be acquired, no matter what the cost. She and Sirius had to be made to marry. Otherwise, he might choose a wholly inappropriate girl and... _pollute_ their bloodline. Mrs. Black shivered. It simply could not be permitted.

In this situation, neither force nor blackmail would work. The little princess had to be persuaded, cajoled, ensnared. Ensnared by means of her affections. Yes, _that_ was it; the princess would be lured in by the only useful bait: by young Sirius, whom she obviously cared about. Tempt the girl, but not just with Sirius as he was, but rather a version more attractive to the princess. More attractive than James Potter or any other young wizard that the girl might meet.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** _The usual thanks go to Vaughn, Phoenix, Clara Minutes, Finrod the Faithful, and Memory._


	25. What Alvise Venier and Peziza di Janarra

**Chapter 24: What Alvise Venier and Peziza di Janarra Saw**

When Professor Dumbledore opened the door to the classroom where Calyxa was having a lesson, the three young people inside were unaware of the presence of the headmaster and Prince Alvise. Up at the front of the room where the teacher's desk had been pushed aside, Calyxa was concentrating so hard that she could not sense the intrusion. With her was a boy, obviously the one who had caught her eye. Alvise studied him with interest, wondering if he was anything like his mother.

Across the room was a taller boy, a very unpleasant sort. "Hex me, Calyxa," he taunted. "You know you want to!"

_The fool cannot imagine to incite my child's anger with such silliness_, thought Alvise as he and the headmaster stood silently watching.

"Concentrate," said the other boy in a calm, gentle voice, and Alvise smiled as his daughter complied with the instructions. "Deep breath. Now, let him have it."

With a cool swiftness of motion that seemed choreographed, Calyxa swung her wand towards the taller boy but spoke no incantation. A brilliant jet of light hit him, and he fell backwards onto a large pile of pillows and cushions.

The practice had been elegant, but Alvise was displeased. Perhaps Dumbledore felt it necessary that his students learn such clumsy, random magic, but did he really think that such a thing would ever be useful for someone like Calyxa?

"That's it!" exclaimed the first boy with a smile at Calyxa. Her back was towards him, but Alvise could sense his daughter's excitement and pleasure. Yes, that certainly was the one whom she fancied, but he didn't appear to be as bad as he had feared. Ever since receiving the alarming letter from his mother, he and Peziza had been distressed to imagine that Calyxa had developed a fondness for that woman's son.

Calyxa released the tall boy from the spell, and he got to his feet and stretched. "Not bad, Princess," he called before heading over to them.

She had gone very still. "Remus," she said thoughtfully. "I think my father is here."

"Perfectly correct," said Professor Dumbledore, and the three students all turned quickly to face them. "That was quite impressive, Miss di Janarra. I can see that your lessons have not been wasted." He and Alvise went over to the students.

Calyxa's face lit with a joyful smile as Alvise approached. "Papà, I am so happy!" She hurried to embrace him. "But you are early!"

"I couldn't wait any longer to see you," he told her as he held her back at arm's length to take a good look at her. "Your mother is in London making preparations. Besides, I wanted to meet your suitor." What he really meant was, _Your mother and I have been terribly worried about you after receiving an appalling letter from some ghastly woman who says her son is courting you. _Alvise gazed carefully at the young man who had stood beside his daughter. The boy was certainly not what he had expected, thankfully, after that frightful letter! "You must be Mr. Black."

The boy's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "No, sir. Sorry – Prince." He looked very pale and a bit overcome.

"Papà," said Calyxa. "This is my friend, Remus Lupin. This is my father, Prince Alvise Venier of Venice."

A slight frown of confusion creased his brow, but ever the gentleman, the prince reached to shake the hand of the young man who made his daughter happy. "I am very happy to know you, Mr. Lupin."

"Pleased to meet you," he managed.

"And this is Sirius Black."

Without showing his surprise, Alvise turned to the tall unpleasant boy and shook his hand. He was a very handsome young man, Alvise could see; still, it was strange that Calyxa could have affection for someone like that. She obviously liked the other boy. Why had Black's mother written that her son was courting her?

"Well, Mr. Black," he said, "your mother has written to ask if my daughter might visit you over the winter holiday. Since you are _courting_ her."

All the blood drained from the boy's face, and he swallowed.

"How lovely," Calyxa interrupted with a smile and no indication of surprise or apprehension. "I have met Sirius's mother, but I have not had the pleasure of meeting his father."

The boys both glanced at her. Alvise could detect no dishonesty in Calyxa; only from the reactions of the boys did he know that something here was not right. That and the fact that Calyxa obviously fancied the other boy. For some reason, Calyxa was protecting them, and whatever her reason, Alvise would support her.

"Professor," he said to Albus. "Would it be possible for Calyxa to come and dine with me in the village tonight before I return to London? I should like some time to speak together."

"Of course," answered the headmaster mildly. Alvise knew that the old wizard didn't like him, and he wondered with a hint of a smile if he had ever been a suitor of Peziza's. "The students can finish up here, and Calyxa can meet you in my office when she's ready."

* * *

That evening, Calyxa was so excited to be speaking in their Venetian dialect that her words ran together sometimes. Over a fine, country-style dinner, she explained what had occurred with the Black boy and his mother, and Alvise listened without interrupting. When she had finished speaking, the prince merely nodded. "What do you intend to do?"

"I don't know. I'll speak with Remus first. And Sirius," said Calyxa.

He considered it for a moment. "Why do you want to involve yourself with such people? I don't understand."

"Papà, they _hurt_ him." Calyxa looked impassioned, indignant. "His own parents! If I can help, I'll do so."

Calyxa's behavior surprised him. She had always been a quiet, weak child. _But that is our fault for becoming parents so late in life_. She was fond of harmony and liked to avoid unpleasantness and conflict; to disagree so forcefully, she must feel very strongly about it.

"I understand perfectly what goes on in that family," she continued. "If you had the ability to make a difference, what would you do?"

They both knew the answer to that question: he'd do whatever he could. "What of your young man? What does he think of all this?"

"It was his idea." Calyxa stood up and began to pace. When she was in a passion, when her mind was alive with possibilities, she paced. It thrilled and worried Alvise to recognize his daughter's abilities, for he could only imagine what the future would hold for the girl. "Remus knows it's only a game. He's well aware of that. And Sirius is trapped for one more year, until he comes of age. I've got the ability to help him, to ease the pressure and pain. It's nothing new, of course, nothing I haven't done before."

Alvise watched his daughter with pride and fear mingling. Everything she said was true, but she was too sure of herself in some things. Although she was not one for taking risks, he worried that she one day might risk something that she couldn't afford to lose.

"I've invited Remus to the Solstice celebration."

The prince's heart stopped for a second. She was only fifteen, and such an invitation would be interpreted among many as a precursor to an engagement. "Have you?"

"I invited Jillian as well, but she can't come," she informed him. "Remus's parents have agreed to let him come. They'd like to meet you and Mamma first, though."

It was more than the ghastly Mrs. Black had required before offering her son to them like some sort of trophy. "Do they know that you're Mamma's heir?"

"I doubt it. I don't honestly think they'd care if they did."

Thank Losna she had chosen that boy and not the handsome one! The awkwardness of her youth was fading, and she was becoming more like Peziza every day, which made him nervous.

"Child," he sighed, smiling at her. "Your mother has asked me to pass a message to you, that she'd like you to conduct the Solstice ceremony this year."

"Me?" she asked in shock and excitement, for such an honor should not have come for two years.

"She thinks you are ready, and I agree." He continued to smile and knew that she could not perceive his real emotions, which he had buried deeply within him.

* * *

The day before the Solstice, the contessa and Calyxa met Sirius and his mother for aperitifs at a posh London restaurant frequented by witches and wizards who wished to see and be seen. The lovely décor reflected the exquisite Winter Garden visible through huge floor to ceiling windows, and they had the opportunity to chat and get better acquainted in the beauty and comfort of the luxurious surroundings.

Although she appeared utterly placid and charming, Peziza di Janarra's thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. Mrs. Black's frigid manners were at their hypocritical best; however, her twisted sense of entitlement and lack of conscience disturbed Peziza.

The young man was not as bad as she had feared. With a mother like that, it was a miracle he had turned out half as well as he had. The strain between mother and son bordered on open conflict; it was only Calyxa's presence that kept things cordial. Sirius was holding in his rage and festering pain and pretending to be enthralled with Calyxa. Mrs. Black disguised her disapproval and resentment towards the boy and fawned over Calyxa while making subtle attempts to find out more about Peziza's life in Venice.

"And is Prince Alvise's palace on the Grand Canal?" she asked with feigned indifference.

"It faces that way," Peziza replied with a smile, "though I think the English word palace is too grand a term for what is just a house."

Calyxa was playing her game very subtly, occasionally touching Sirius's arm or gazing at him with the hint of a smile. The miserable old witch didn't miss any of it, Peziza realized, and she hoped fervently that Calyxa was aware of the incredible danger of this situation. _I'll leave her alone so that she'll get a taste of what she'll have to face if she goes._

Peziza smiled at Sirius. "I should very much like to take a closer look at the garden. Sirius, would you be kind enough to give me your arm?"

The sound of his name startled him. "Yes, ma'am," he answered politely, getting up. "Excuse me," he said to his mother and Calyxa before escorting the older woman over to the wide windows.

She held his arm lightly and glided along with him. He had to be wondering why she had taken him aside, for she obviously wanted either to leave her daughter alone with his mother or to speak with him privately. She stopped by one of the windows and let go of his arm.

When she turned to face him, she was smiling a little, but she looked at him quite seriously. "Calyxa has told me the truth about your deception."

"I know."

"Such behavior disappoints me as being rather childish, and I cannot approve of lying and misleading your mother. However, now that I have met her, I can understand your motives. I am sorry for your troubles, but the lies you told were wrong, and it was unconscionable to involve Calyxa."

"Yeah," he agreed, looking away, "but it wasn't my idea."

She paused, marveling at how expertly the poor boy hid pain and misery. "She has told me that she agreed to the deception in order to help you through a difficult situation. She is absolutely convinced that her visit to your home and her attending the ball will make a great deal of difference in your avoiding the displeasure of your family. Is that so? Is she right?"

"Yes, she's right." He raised his eyes to her. "It's selfish on my part, that's for sure, but she agreed to do it when Remus asked her, so I'd help with her lessons. She didn't do it for me."

She studied him, her dark eyes widening and going soft. Only now did she see what Calyxa had seen and understand why the girl had agreed to help Sirius. He had a tender heart that he had been forced to protect by hiding it from the world. For a second or two, she remained still before sighing. "Don't be so sure about that, young man," she said with a smile.

He stood frowning at her and considering what she had said.

"My child is not strong," she continued. "Not now, though she will be. Now, she is vulnerable, and there are those who will wish to harm her in order to harm you."

"If my mother and father think there's any chance of her marrying me and making me behave the way they want, she'll be safer with them than anywhere else in the world," he replied, and Peziza knew for certain that he spoke the truth.

* * *

"You don't have to go through with this charade," Peziza told her daughter later in private. "There are other options."

"I'm going to do it," said Calyxa very calmly. "I know how to handle marriage-minded mothers and amorous young men. I've done it often enough."

"That woman is desperate," she flung back. "She'll do anything – anything – to get you to take a vow with that boy of hers. If you're alone in that house with them, who knows what might happen."

"There's no more danger than there is every time I go to the Gritti Palace or find myself alone with Gasparo Barbarigo."

Peziza knew that the girl spoke the truth. _But you'll be beyond my ability to protect you!_ she thought in anguish.

"You can't protect me from this. Besides, Sirius and I have the advantage, for they think we're in love, and we know how valuable it is to them. How much easier it is for them to let me come willingly than to compel me."

"Calyxa," she sighed, defeated. _A year from now, she will not have me to advise her, _Peziza mused. _Isn't it better for her to have this strength than to abandon what she thinks is right?_

_What would I do in her place?_ Peziza thought. _What would I do?_ She concentrated hard, trying to recall what it was like to be that young.

At age fifteen, Peziza di Janarra had been something like Calyxa was now – well-educated, knowledgeable about all aspects of life and death, able to handle most social situations, and untouched but possessing a lot of knowledge about men. No one could know more about sex without having actually experienced it.

At the same time, young Peziza had not conducted a ceremony alone until she was seventeen. Her own mother had lived a long, long life and had passed into the spirit world when Peziza had been a lively, single witch in her thirties. Peziza had been a mature, experienced woman when she had become contessa. Calyxa was not yet sixteen.

The simple truth was that she knew her daughter, and she also knew how short the time was that they had left together. Now was the time for candor and support, not criticism. "Listen to me. This young man is a handsome one, and I don't blame you for whatever feelings you have. That said, I will tell you one thing: if you take this boy to your bed, you will forever ruin what is between you and Remus."

"Mamma," she laughed. "I don't have those feelings for Sirius."

"And Remus?"

Calyxa paused and said nothing.

"I don't mean to pry into such personal things as your love affairs, but you've never held such affection for one particular boy for longer than a few weeks."

Still, the girl did not speak. The silence stretched out for a minute. Finally, Calyxa said, "You'll meet him tomorrow."

"All right." The contessa recognized defeat. "I'll let the Blacks know that you'll be joining them. You'll take Cacciala, of course. Have her hide upon a bracelet." Peziza reached to undo the clasp of her necklace. "And this. It's about time you had it. It will be far more useful to you than it is to an old witch like me."

Calyxa sat staring at her in stunned speechlessness.

"Where you're going, what you're going to do, you're going to need it. You shouldn't take it off at all, not even for bathing or sleeping. That's when you'll be at your most vulnerable."

Although Calyxa pierced her with her gaze, Peziza had buried her true feelings and reasons in deep vaults that the child would not easily access. All she could detect were fears and worries about her visit to the Blacks.

"You'll still retain the magic from the Solstice quite powerfully, and this will help." Peziza got up and went to stand behind Calyxa to fasten the clasp of the chain around her neck. "Be sure to do a solitary ritual in the evening, and most importantly, when you do, protect the young man as well as yourself. He'll be your only ally in this."

* * *

Peziza went with Calyxa to meet the Lupins. The first thing that she thought upon meeting the boy was that he must have just had his hair cut. He looked as clean and well-pressed as everything else in the house, which had obviously been scrubbed until it was sparkling clean in preparation for their visit.

It was not difficult to see that he suffered; it was almost as easy to determine what he was. Why hadn't Alvise told her? Had he even noticed? Could Calyxa have realized that her young man was a slave to the full moon? No, she was too young and had not the experience to recognize what her senses were telling her. Would it have mattered to her if she had? Knowing Calyxa, probably not.

Should it matter? In theory, of course it shouldn't. In reality, though, when Peziza considered her only daughter, who was far too young for all the responsibility that would soon rest upon her shoulders, she wished for more for Calyxa than a lower-class English boy – and a werewolf to boot! However, the girl lit up like a firefly when he was near. _Good thing Mrs. Black can't see them together, or she'd never believe that Calyxa was in love with her son._

The parents seemed to find Calyxa charming and adorable. They could see that their son was enamored with her, which was fairly obvious. A few times, they shared a smile and a fervent hope that maybe the boy could be happy.

It was not Peziza's custom to violate anyone's mind, but in this one case, she asked Losna's pardon and probed the Lupins for anything she could find. The result was nothing she hadn't seen before, and they seemed like charming, decent people. Nothing but the most ordinary of thoughts lurked there, except one. Both of them were consumed with fear that people would discover what their boy was. More specifically, they were terrified that now that their beloved son had finally found a nice girl, she would hurt him and reject him if she found out his secret. All they wanted for the boy was a normal life where he had a chance at happiness, and Peziza empathized with them.

Otherwise, the contessa found Remus Lupin delightful. He was not what she had imagined Calyxa would choose; however, his appeal for the young witch was obvious. Such a soothing presence, such a strong, smooth warmth acted like a balm on the poor girl's senses. How unlike other boys his age he was. He was attractive: thin, pale, but strong, with remarkable blue eyes. Perhaps not a dream lover, but pleasant enough for a fifteen-year-old girl who suffered cruelly. A rather mature choice. Thank Losna that Calyxa favored him over the boy with the formidable mother!

Of course, Peziza had to be a little careful around him, for she affected him as strongly as the moon affected the tides. Decade upon decade of Lunar Magic had made her what she was in the same way that the bite had made him, and the poor boy had no comprehension of what it meant. At the same time, before he was introduced to others of their clan, he would have to be protected, for most of the Janarra's who practiced Lunar Magic would be able to determine what he was. Very carefully, so that even Calyxa would not notice, Peziza shielded the inner part of him that served Leukothia. Only then did they take their leave of the Lupins.

While Calyxa was busy preparing and during the ceremony, Peziza had Marin look after Remus and explain to him in English what was happening. Although he was more than ten years older, Marin was kind to the English boy and later declared him a fine fellow.

During the ceremony among the standing stones, Peziza was too entranced with the sight of Calyxa in her white robes performing the ritual of the Solstice to pay attention to anyone else. She felt tears sliding down her face as she watched, tears of pride and happiness and sorrow. _Thanks to My Lady for allowing me this one last joy._

Afterwards, there was feasting and dancing to welcome the return of the Sun at the turning of the year. The others of their clan and the guests accepted the presence of young Remus, but whispers among them said that Calyxa and he planned to get engaged once she was seventeen.

Violante Rucellai said that the boy was pretty but a little bit too pale to be healthy. Allegra Strozzi-Pallavicini observed that he had charming manners for his age. Princess Irina Costanza della Gherardesca disapproved of the boy because he was not Italian, which amused Peziza since that princess was Russian. On the other hand, her son, Borodin, was quite fond of Calyxa, and the princess had always hoped that perhaps those two would get married. Although the young prince was a fine wizard and gentleman, he was strikingly handsome and already enormously popular with young witches. And with older witches, if the gossips were to be believed. Peziza thought that Remus was a better match for Calyxa.

The young pair held hands when they thought no one would notice. Actually, the boy seemed to be playing the part of the romantic young gentleman without too much effort. His parents had obviously instilled him with both manners and virtues. He was a fine boy with natural grace and charm and a good heart. All that and he obviously adored Calyxa. He had no idea what she was and adored the young woman, not the future contessa. Being able to witness it filled Peziza with a deep sense of peace.

Once, she noticed them kissing. Well, she hadn't actually seen them kissing, she had seen them come in hand-in-hand, flushed and bright-eyed and slightly tipsy with the intensity of their ardor. When she saw them, Peziza smiled fondly at Alvise, for she recalled that they had once had similar feelings, but that had been scores of years earlier. _I was wicked in the days of my youth, she recalled. But he is the finest man I have ever known._

She grew misty and maudlin and had to force herself to turn her attention to Calyxa and the boy, who were talking together and laughing. Perhaps it was simply youthful passion, but perhaps not, for they fit together, the unfortunate young werewolf and the child of the Moon Goddess.

_Losna has allowed me to live to see this, _she reasoned_. I can rest easily, now, knowing that she'll be all right without me._

* * *

**Author's Notes:** _Thanks for beta-reading go to Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes. Special thanks to Memory and Finrod the Faithful for advice._


	26. What Sirius Saw

**Chapter 25: What Sirius Saw **

As far back as the shadows of his memories took him, Sirius Black could not ever remember being happy at home, nor could he remember what it was like to feel loved and valued by his parents. When he had still been young enough to crave their approval and love, he had tried to conform to their expectations, but everything about him, even as a small child, seemed to disappoint them. That was the worst thing, the thing that cut him most deeply: the cold look of disappointment in their eyes.

Cruelty he knew and could use. Rage, violence, and blackmail were ready weapons. That silent judgment of his mum and dad – judgment that always found him lacking – was the weapon that hurt him the deepest and most often. By the age of ten, Sirius had become an outcast in his family and had developed ways to protect himself against them. _Useless _and _stupid _, he thought of himself, for they often enough told him he was. When Mum set him on the Hogwarts Express at age eleven, he had been a bitter, resentful little boy who fought with anyone who gave him the slightest provocation.

Being sorted into Gryffindor had really been the final indignity against the House of Black even though it had been beyond his control. The punishment he received after that had been the worst ever. It had been the closest Dad had ever come to killing him, and Sirius never forgot it.

Before Hogwarts, he had thought there was something terribly wrong with him, that he was as stupid and useless as his parents said. Only after meeting the other students did he realize that not all parents were like his. James Potter, whom he had often met at events and parties before starting school, had nice parents who supported him instead of trying to squeeze him into some idealized role of a proper wizard.

The conflict with his parents had grown worse with each year that went by, and he sometimes thought he wouldn't live to see his seventeenth birthday. And then came the miraculous event – that Calyxa would deflect and transform his parents' displeasure.

Having friends he could depend on, friends who would go to great lengths to help him, gave him a warm feeling inside to combat the chill from his family. Before having tea with Mum, he and James had tutored Calyxa in Quidditch basics and terminology. Although she had no interest whatsoever in the sport, she had paid attention and learned enough to fake it. She and James had played their parts perfectly, subtle and smart and utterly believable, and Remus had taken the Polyjuice potion and posed as Uncle Balthazar. It had all been Remus's idea. He had planned everything, and Calyxa had performed for him. Remus was the mastermind, the evil genius, and Calyxa was the star. The rest of them did their bit, but those two really outdid themselves. Sirius imagined it was the two of them working together that did it, but it was still amazing.

When they had been planning their strategies, Remus had asked him if Mum would intercept any letters from Calyxa. Sirius hadn't thought of it, but it was another massively brilliant idea. James and Sirius used the mirrors to communicate, and Remus was in on that as well. He had helped her write a romantic letter that Mum had definitely read before giving it to Sirius. The letter had been subtly excellent, and Sirius marveled at the combined talents of Remus and the princess. Together they possessed a magnificent kind of genius.

In the letter, sweet and restrained Calyxa had written that she was worried that her parents were not convinced that Sirius was a worthy suitor. To gain her parents' favor, she had recommended several things. The first was that Sirius should come alone to pick her up for her visit. If Mum came with him, Calyxa's father might see Sirius as a weak mother's boy rather than a strong and independent young man. Shortly after receiving that letter, Sirius approached Mum and suggested that he go alone. She had agreed immediately – and told him that it was an excellent idea!

On the other hand, although he was tremendously glad and grateful that his friends were helping to make his life easier, he was also feeling melancholy. How horrible it was to live in a family that one's friends had to help you protect against! And how embarrassing that the girl willing to pretend to care for him was doing it because she was going out with one of his best mates!

When Sirius brought Calyxa home, all of them, even Mum, were a bit awed when they saw the "princess", for she was radiant! Regulus was just standing there and gawping at her like a dying Jobberknoll.

When Dad was introduced to her, Sirius and Regulus had expected him to mutter his usual gruff greeting, but he surprised both of them. Calyxa held out her hand, and Dad took it and bowed formally. It was something to see. It stunned them – they had never seen Dad bow to anyone. Mum must have coached him beforehand.

Looking sweet and a bit as if she admired him, she smiled at Dad. "Sirius is the most handsome boy I have ever seen," she said, "and I am happy to think that he will look like you when he is grown."

That made Dad smile a little. Sirius was amazed that the Great Stone Face didn't crack. "You're too kind," he said, but his voice was gentle, pleased. Mum was smiling as well, and it almost could have been a touching scene if it had been another family.

"Not at all." She held his gaze. "If it is not too forward of me to say, I hope you will honor me with a dance at the ball."

Dad was really smiling now. What was Calyxa doing? Was she _flirting _with him? Sirius and Regulus looked at each other with eyes wide. No one flirted with Dad. Girls were too afraid of him. Everyone was afraid of him! And he certainly didn't _dance _with anyone.

"It would be a pleasure," Dad said quite cordially.

"And you know our younger son, Regulus," said Mum.

As Calyxa said hello to his brother, Sirius watched Mum. The false cheer remained, but it seemed as if Mum had learned something disturbing when she saw how easily Calyxa had charmed Dad. Knowing Mum, her mind was probably racing to figure out a way to use this new knowledge to her advantage.

"Sir, ma'am," began Calyxa with a smile for both of his parents. "This is a little gift from Venice's island of Murano." From some secret pocket, she produced a large box wrapped in blue paper and tied with a sparkling silver ribbon. It must have been charmed to stay very small in her pocket, for she hadn't been carrying anything at all before.

"How thoughtful," sighed Mum as Calyxa set the package on one of the end tables. Mum untied the neat little ribbon, and the box fell open.

There was a little scene inside made entirely of colored glass. Sirius had seen enough pictures of Venice to recognize that this represented a little street scene, or _canal_ scene, he thought with a grin. Tiny men in striped shirts and flat-brimmed hats poled little boats along the canal that flowed between graceful palaces. There were people dancing an elegant minuet in a central square, but they all wore strange, ornate masks and costumes. Atop one of the palaces was a golden lion with amber eyes and a tawny mane. Regulus reached to touch it, and the lion tried to bite his hand, and then it roared.

It was charming and very sophisticated. Sirius liked the lion, but he was sure that Mum and Dad would hate the symbol of Gryffindor. They would have preferred a Slytherin serpent, he thought.

"The lion is the symbol of Venice, of course," Calyxa told them. "And the people displayed there are dressed for the Carnival season, you see."

"What a lovely gift," said Mum.

"I am glad that it pleases you," replied Calyxa with a lovely soft tone similar to the way that her mother spoke. She looked at Sirius then with a little smile, and he smiled back.

Mum had made Regulus move into one of the spare bedrooms so that Calyxa could stay in his room, which was next to Sirius's. First, she'd opened a wide doorway between the two rooms, and then she'd decorated Regulus's room like a confection in pink, with a frilly canopy over the bed and lace everywhere. Calyxa had laughed when she saw it. "I think such a thing is for a small girl of three or four."

At dinner, Mum seated Sirius next to Calyxa, who appeared extraordinarily at ease and chatted with each member of the family with no hint of effort. While they were awaiting the main course, she reached over and straightened one of the clasps that had come undone on the front of Sirius's robes, and then she patted him possessively on the chest.

The whole event had taken less that three seconds, but Mum's eyes were gleaming afterwards, and Sirius grew even more troubled as he tried to figure out what she was planning.

* * *

As Calyxa stared out the window at the snowflakes in awe and enchantment, Mum sent a calculating look to Dad, and some wordless communication passed between them. "Sirius," she said, "you should take the princess on a short walk. A bit of a stroll around the neighborhood. To better experience the snow." 

Calyxa turned to him with shining eyes. "By all means," she said with enthusiasm. "Such events are so rare in Venice."

It had grown late, and Dad would not have ordinarily allowed anyone to go outside at this hour, not after the house was locked up for the night. When Sirius fetched their cloaks, Mum accompanied him and told him to make Calyxa an offer of marriage and get her to agree no matter what he had to do or say. That way the engagement could be announced at the ball.

When he tried to complain, Mum used a curse he didn't know, and he knew he'd have no choice. He led Calyxa out onto the pavement and the light of the streetlamp. Although the house disappeared from their view, he knew that Mum and Dad could still see them. Anyway, he was going to have to ask her soon, for the curse Mum had used was beginning to strangle him.

"Whatever it is," Calyxa said as she stood with her face turned up to the thick snowflakes, "say it now. Do not suffer needlessly."

It wasn't much of a surprise that she knew, or had realized. "I have to... propose marriage to you," he gasped and was immediately able to breathe easier. "I've got no choice. I'm sorry to have to put you in this spot, and I'm really sorry for doing this to Remus."

"Marriage?" she asked in surprise.

"They're forcing me to it. I have no choice."

"Do you mean you would not want to marry me of your own free will?" she asked very seriously.

"Yes," he said without thinking. "No. I mean... that's not what I meant." She was laughing. He scowled as he felt himself being forced to his knees. "I have to ask you. No choice really." Now kneeling in the light frosting of snow on the pavement, he took her hand. "So – will you?"

"You honor me," she replied formally but with great ease, "but I cannot accept. It is impossible for me to even have a formal suitor until I am seventeen."

He heaved a huge sigh and let her take her hand away. "Good. Should I tell my Mum that?"

"Certainly. It is true. Tell her that I begged you to ask me again upon my seventeenth birthday."

"It's not the first proposal you've had," he observed as he got to his feet and brushed off his cloak.

"No," she agreed, "but it was the easiest."

They stood a few feet apart for several minutes in the hushed silence of the falling snow. For certain, those spying on them from the house would be able to recognize from their body language that his proposal had been rejected. "Are you going to tell Remus about this?"

"Yes, of course," she replied. "There is nothing to hide."

"You don't think he'll be upset?"

"No," she replied. "Why would he be upset? This was his idea."

There was no arguing with the truth; however, Sirius didn't think he'd be as understanding if it were his girlfriend on the receiving end of the proposal.

"I think that is your brother watching us from the window."

She must have shifted close enough to the house for it to reappear to her. It was a game he and Regulus had played as children, to see where they could stand and make the house disappear and reappear just by moving slightly.

When Sirius shifted closer to her, he could see Regulus in one of the windows with the lights behind him. "Yeah," he sighed, but he was really thinking, _That bloody tosser, he knows I wouldn't spy on him if he were with a girl _.

While he was feeling defensive, however, Calyxa's mind was moving in an entirely different way. "We must show him something worth telling," she said as she turned to face him.

They stood in profile with the streetlamp illuminating them, and Calyxa reached up to draw his head down and kiss him. It took him a second to understand what she was doing, and he reacted a little awkwardly. The truth was that he didn't have much experience in kissing girls.

He didn't really like her that way, but it was a nice kiss. He enjoyed it and thought that maybe she did as well. "Merlin," he muttered when she finished the kiss. He felt a bit strange. It was really nice to have someone here with him and to think that maybe she didn't really dislike him as much as he had originally thought. Then he thought about what had happened. "What is Remus going to say?"

"He is going to say that you owe him a great deal," she said with a little laugh, but she stopped quite suddenly. "Now your mother is watching."

Resisting the urge to glance at the house, he again shifted a little and used his peripheral vision. Unlike Regulus, Mum was peering out from a darkened window so it was hard to see her. It was late, and Mum and Dad were going to want to know what she said. "Let's go in. I'm going to have to talk to her."

* * *

Calyxa went up to bathe and get ready for bed, and Sirius went to make his report to his parents. When he told them that Calyxa had to wait until she was seventeen, Dad snorted and turned away. Mum considered it for a long time. "Go up to bed," was all she finally said. "See that your young lady is comfortable. Kreacher will bring up some wine. Maybe she'd like another glass to help her relax." 

It worried him because they were acting so strangely and he still had no inking as to what they were up to. He washed up, changed into his night robes, and examined the new door as he waited for Calyxa to finish her bath.

When she came into her frilly, pink room, she stopped and frowned at him, looking a bit worried. She was dressed in a long nightgown and dressing gown and her hair was combed out. In her arm, she held a plush toy bird. After her mature and ladylike behavior in front of his parents, she looked very young and nervous.

"I don't know what they're up to," he admitted. "I know they have no idea that we're putting this all on, but they're acting too nice. Makes me a bit nervous."

"Ridiculous," she said in a low voice that sounded strange to him, as if she was trying to appear calmer than she really was. "You can easily see what they expect."

"What?" he asked in real confusion.

She glared at him. "Stop being deliberately stupid," she snapped, but she was more nervous than anything. "We are doing this to help you. Remus – he will be angry."

The words stung a little, but he could recognize how truly frightened she was. "I'm not playing. I really don't understand. What is it?"

Her eyes flashed. "They want you to... to..." She drew in a breath and looked him in the eye. "They want you... to give me... to give me a baby."

His mind could not comprehend what she was saying. "What?"

"By Losna," she muttered. "They want us to..." She stopped and scowled at him, shaking her head. Her very adult annoyance was strangely incongruent with her youthful appearance. "I do not know how to say it in English. They want us to make a baby. Together."

At these words, the whole world lurched sideways, and he had to sit down on the edge of his bed. What she said made sense, for if she became pregnant, her parents might agree to let them marry before she was seventeen.

'It happens all the time in Venice when one side wants to force a marriage."

"Yeah," he said. "I didn't realize." He felt completely and utterly stupid to have missed the obvious explanation.

She studied him and seemed to relax when she saw that he really hadn't known what his parents were thinking. "Perhaps they will leave us alone tonight."

It was so strange to think about Mum and Dad encouraging him to make love to a girl in his room while they were home. And Calyxa had been frightened. Had she thought that he might try to take advantage of her while they were alone? He hoped not, for having her fear him was the last thing he wanted. It would ruin everything!

"But we cannot be sure how truly private they will leave us." She stopped speaking and cocked her head to one side as if she had heard something strange. "That house-elf is coming."

"Kreacher?"

Calyxa set down her toy bird and sat close beside him. "Let him see that we have been kissing, and he will certainly tell your parents."

Since they had known they might have to pretend to be snogging at some point during the visit, they had planned for it. Without waiting, he clasped his arms around her and pressed his mouth against the side of her neck.

She held on to him as well, and he heard her sigh. "Oh, Sirius."

Kreacher, of course, came in without knocking. "Kreacher has brought some wine for the princess."

Calyxa gasped in surprise and leapt up.

"Get out of here, Kreacher, before I tell Mum you've been spying on the princess," snapped Sirius.

"Kreacher wasn't spying," complained the old house-elf. "Just bringing wine so the princess will be easy."

"You saw nothing," Calyxa told him in a rather commanding voice. "You did not see us alone here, and you did not see us kissing, for if you did, my mother and father will never let me see Sirius again."

"No, Kreacher saw nothing," the house-elf announced before turning to go.

"That was brilliant," Sirius sighed as he got up to pour some of the wine. "Cripes! This is the good stuff." He passed her a glass. "I bet he's on his way to tell Mum right now."

"I am sure you are right." She took a sip of the wine.

"At least we know they won't bother us until tomorrow morning."

"Perhaps," she said, gazing around at the walls. "Let me do one thing. Some special magic that will keep us safe if anyone gets too curious, even Kreacher."

"Some kind of Italian magic?" he asked, wondering what she meant.

"Well, something foreign," she said. She went to the window and looked out at the snow before closing her eyes and drawing in a breath. Then she opened her eyes and began to speak in Italian. Turning to the right, she began to pace the perimeter of the room while reciting what seemed to be a poem. When she reached the new door between their rooms, she passed through and entered the pink room.

He followed to the doorway and watched her pace along the perimeter of that room, all the while reciting the Italian poem. It occurred to Sirius that it was probably a spell.

When she approached the doorway again, he stepped back to let her pass. She reentered his room and completed the transit around the perimeter. Once she had reached the window where she had started, the entire room was flooded with an intense silvery light that slowly faded back to normal.

"There," she said with a sigh. "Now, tonight, they cannot see or hear what occurs in these rooms."

"Really?"

"If they attempt to penetrate the border by any means, either magical or physical, they will be misled into thinking that we are both in your bed."

Had his mates been here, he knew he would have been tempted to make a suggestive comment at her expense; however, he didn't want to make her nervous or uncomfortable when they still had to continue their charade tomorrow and at the ball.

"They'll be delighted then." He went over to the trunk at the foot of his bed and opened it. "James is at Remus's tonight. We can contact them with the mirrors. They won't be asleep yet."

"Contact them? Really?" She came over to where he was rummaging in the trunk.

"Sure." He got up with the mirror in hand and saw how her face had lit up at the mention of contacting Remus. It made him feel like laughing to see how eager she was, but at the same time, he felt a bit envious of the two of them. He hadn't ever been in love, not yet, but he thought it would be a good thing to have a nice girl to take care of.

He contacted James, had Remus take the mirror on the other end, and then gave his to Calyxa and left her alone in the pink room, closing the door as well as he could between them to give them some privacy.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** _The usual thanks go to Vaughn, Phoenix, Clara Minutes, memory, and Finrod the Faithful._


	27. What Sirius Saw, Part 2

**Chapter 26: What Sirius Saw, Part 2 **

Because of Calyxa's tardiness, the Blacks had been one of the last parties to arrive, but neither Mum nor Dad said a word of complaint. Sirius had seen many bizarre things in the preceding twenty-four hours, but he was not prepared for the moment when Mum asked Calyxa what would be the appropriate order to enter the ballroom.

Very calmly, as if she expected such deference, Calyxa informed them that Mum, Dad, and Regulus should enter first and that she and Sirius would follow. And so they did, leaving him standing with Calyxa and feeling like it was all some kind of hallucination.

Waiting to be announced, Sirius watched his parents enter with Regulus following close behind. Of course, if Calyxa hadn't been with him, Sirius would be trailing his parents as well. How surreal everything seemed! He had felt strangely calm all day, almost as if he were watching everything as an objective observer.

The preparations for the ball had revolved around The Princess, whose gentle yet no-nonsense manner towards Mum amazed Sirius. That morning, Calyxa had informed Mum that after lunch, she would have a long nap before bathing and dressing. Sirius could tell that Mum didn't like it, but she went along with a steely, false smile. With him and Calyxa playing the parts of the affectionate lovers so convincingly, Mum and Dad left them alone for much of the day. Calyxa really did sleep for a few hours, and Sirius hid out in his room, talked with James via the mirrors, and even dozed off for a while in the grey afternoon light.

Later, after she was dressed and ready, Calyxa came into his room, and he stared at her for a while before he heard what she was saying. She was a kind of unformed young version of the contessa. Before, all he had seen when he looked at her was a plain, silent little shadow with a sexy figure. Since the Halloween dance, however, everything was different. On that night, she had been beautiful and surrounded by light. After the Solstice, she was just as lovely, glowing with it. Although her robes were a soft pink color that young witches often wore, they were also fitted and had a low cut neckline. She looked lovely and soft and very curvy in it. He liked it and knew that a lot of the other wizards, both old and young, would like it.

Before they went downstairs, she had done some more special Italian magic that put a little of the silvery light inside him. She said it would protect him a little. Just in case. He was quite glad of it, knowing that one could never be too careful around the Blacks and other pureblood families.

The announcement of Calyxa's and his names brought him back to the present. It startled him because it was the first time anyone outside school had called him _mister_. It sounded so grown up, and he felt like a fraud. He _was_ a fraud, he thought as he walked slowly to accommodate her smaller stride, but she distracted him.

The girl knew how to enter a room! She seemed to increase in size, but when he glanced at her, he saw that her pink silk robes were billowing out around her, and she was flooded with light, just as she had been at the Halloween Dance. Everyone was looking at her, and he smiled a little. Maybe he'd even enjoy this ball since no one would be pressing him to dance with eligible young witches of appropriate families.

His dark thoughts of their sham returned. A fraud. Yes, he was a fraud. Not a grown up, not a _mister_. Not the almost-fiancé of a princess. Not the lover of a sexy girl whom his parents thought had spent last night in his bed. Not the gentlemanly young wizard he was posing as. None of that. He was a fraud who had borrowed one of his best mates' girlfriends because he had no girlfriend of his own.

Most of the girls he had gone out with were fellow students at Hogwarts, and he had generally picked ones that Mum wouldn't approve of. It might be nice to have a girlfriend, a steady girl, like Remus had. Of course, Calyxa wasn't really pretty or fun, but she was a good sport. Anyway, she and Remus really did make a nice couple. Sirius preferred tall, lively girls, and the Italian witch was just too little and pale to be attractive. One the other hand, Sirius thought with a naughty grin, when they pretended to be snogging, he enjoyed the feel of her breasts pressing against him.

He had to introduce her to the Malfoys, and he thought he did quite a good job of being polite. Old Mrs. Malfoy still looked sharp and intimidating, and she examined both Sirius and Calyxa very carefully. Mum had said more than once that Narcissa was waiting for the old lady to die so that she could be the mistress of the house. Knowing Narcissa, Sirius didn't doubt it. Lucius seemed to appreciate Calyxa's figure, Sirius thought, as Narcissa's eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together in a thin line.

After the receiving line, he took her over to get a drink and told her, "Be careful of Narcissa. She's not the kind of enemy you want to make."

"She is not someone with whom we should concern ourselves," said Calyxa dismissively. "Her husband is far more dangerous, but he sees us as inconsequential children."

"Could've fooled me," he grumbled, for Lucius had not looked at her like she was either inconsequential or a child.

The evening definitely wasn't as bad as it could have been. When they danced, that luminous, Italian magic made Calyxa lovely, and everyone seemed to envy Sirius, which gave him a feeling of satisfaction. However, he got a sharp shock when he spotted his cousin Bellatrix, Narcissa's sister, on the other side of the room. From past experience, he knew to keep far away from her.

The most annoying part of the ball was that Mum missed nothing. Sirius could see her frown whenever a single wizard spoke with Calyxa or danced with her. The attentions of married men seemed to please Mum. _She probably thinks I look good in comparison_, Sirius thought, for he knew he looked handsome and elegant in his formal robes. When Lucius Malfoy partnered Calyxa for a reel, however, Sirius watched carefully. He had never liked Lucius, who had a condescending, supercilious air that irked Sirius whenever their paths crossed, though such events were luckily rare.

Now, Sirius felt a sour, jealous taste as he watched the sleaze's hands linger on Calyxa's waist. It was only natural to feel jealous, he knew. After all, their host was coming on to his "girlfriend". He tried to paste a bland expression on his face so that anyone who looked at him would think he was unconcerned. He took a glass of wine and swallowed a mouthful.

At the same time, he caught sight of Narcissa watching the dance and scowling as she leaned to speak with Bellatrix. A little spilled on his chin, and he brushed it away with his fingertips as he muttered several foul epithets under his breath. The two conniving witches were talking with their heads together as they watched Lucius dance with Calyxa. Sirius put down his glass and maneuvered his way over to the other end of the room. As soon as the dance came to an end, he swept in and claimed Calyxa. "Come on," he told her, lacing his fingers in hers and leading her off towards an arched doorway.

She seemed a bit confused but came along without complaint as he propelled her out of the ballroom and into a corridor. "You've got to be careful," he told her in a low voice.

Calyxa stopped to stare at him. "You are truly afraid for me," she said in surprise. "Why? What is the danger?"

Before he could tell her, he heard the sound of Bellatrix's voice. There were several statues in alcoves, so he clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her behind one so the shadows would hide them.

" – horrible little girl of his," Bella was saying. "Can he scrape any lower to find someone willing to marry him?"

"Those pointy eyebrows," Narcissa added. "What are those?"

"Lovely brood they'll spawn once they're married," agreed Bella. "Insufferable little sullen cretins, gilded with obscene amounts of foreign money."

As they moved away, Sirius held the girl still. When he removed his hand, she didn't move or speak at first. Eventually, she whispered, "Am I truly so ugly?"

"I don't know. No, I don't think so." He sighed. "For Merlin's sake, you're Remus's. I can't look at you that way. You know. Like a girl." He sighed again and raked his fingers through his hair in an impatient gesture. "It really doesn't have anything to do with you. They hate me, so they hate you by association."

He could see the faint outline of her wry smile in the shadows. "Such a lovely family that I should marry into!"

He chuckled a little and then froze because he heard quick, light footsteps returning. It was too late to make a break for it, so he pulled Calyxa closer. She hesitated for less than the space of a heartbeat before reaching up to wrap her arms around his shoulders and leaning into him. Just as they had for Kreacher, they would pretend to be snogging.

A bright light suddenly illuminated them. "What a nauseating display," Bella sighed, dimming the light from her wand tip a bit. Narcissa stood a step behind her, and Sirius could see her cold smile.

"What do you want?" he demanded as he released Calyxa from his embrace. Being underage, he and Calyxa couldn't carry their wands, so they were helpless to defend themselves against the two adult witches. Both Bellatrix and Narcissa had taken advantage of similar situations often enough in the past for him to know what he could be facing.

"Such manners!" Bella chided. "And in front of the _princess_." She drew in a theatrical sigh. "I thought you'd introduce your girlfriend. I'm curious to see what kind of witch would actually go out with you."

He had no choice. "This is my cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. Princess Calyxa di Janarra."

"How do you do," said Calyxa politely.

The sound of Narcissa's derisive laughter rang harshly in the corridor. Bella's eyes raked over Calyxa. "I wouldn't have thought that Sirius would ever get his hands on someone pureblood," she said.

"Well, obviously I did," he retorted.

"Regulus says you spent all night and day in bed – while your parents were at home," said Narcissa with a little laugh.

"Do you and Lucius have to wait till the old lady goes out?" he retorted, and her expression changed from ridicule to shock and anger. _Got you! _he thought.

"It probably took you children that long to figure out how to do it," Bella mused.

"I am inexperienced in such things." Calyxa voice, which was absurdly soft and calm for the situation, startled them all. "But Sirius is very patient." She smiled fondly at him. "I must say, though, your beds must be very dull indeed if you are interested in what occurs in ours."

The words were spoken so mildly and in such a polite way that Sirius at first didn't believe his ears and couldn't help his involuntary bark of laughter. Narcissa gasped and Bellatrix grimaced. Immediately, he realized that they were not going to escape unscathed. He corralled Calyxa safely behind him and turned to face Bellatrix squarely, puffing out his chest a bit to offer a bigger target.

Something flew past his head. _The bird! _he thought, for it was certainly Calyxa's toy bird that flew at Bella with its talons extended. It was going for her eyes!

Bella managed to spit out a curse that hit Sirius near his left shoulder before she had to throw up her arms to protect her eyes. The spell was powerful and knocked him down, but it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as it should.

He was dazed for a second, listening to the shrieking. "You must get up now," Calyxa was saying very firmly, her arm around him to help him.

Despite the pain, he managed to get to his feet. Once he was standing, she held him around the waist to steady him. She had little streaks of blood on her face, but she seemed otherwise okay. The bird flew to Calyxa, and he saw Bella stooping to pick up her wand from the floor. Narcissa was flat back against the wall on the other side of the corridor.

"Let us pass," Calyxa commanded. It made Sirius almost feel like laughing, for she really did sound awfully imperious, and it was hard to imagine her speaking that way to anyone, especially Bellatrix!

He couldn't tell exactly what happened next. Bella snatched up her wand and whirled on them. There was a long, bloody scratch on the side of her face, and her hair was tumbled down from its coiffure. At the same time, Calyxa let go of him and raised both of her arms over her head while the corridor momentarily flooded with brilliant light.

There was a funny sort of shift in the floor under him, and Sirius braced his hand against the wall to steady himself. He saw Bella stumble and fall as the floor buckled beneath her feet, and her wand went skittering across the floor. Narcissa still stood against the far wall staring with wide eyes.

Calyxa seized him firmly around the waist and began to lead him back to the ballroom. He was in a considerable amount of pain, but he guessed that the Italian magic had protected him. She pulled on him hard to hurry him even though she was trembling and breathing heavily. The trickle of blood ran from her eyes down her face and neck and dripped onto the front of her pink robes.

Somehow, she guided him back to the ballroom. They did not see Bellatrix again that night.

**Author's Notes:** _The usual thanks go to Vaughn, Phoenix, Clara Minutes, Memory, and Finrod the Faithful._


	28. What Uncle Alphard Saw

**Chapter 27: What Uncle Alphard Saw**

Lighting a cigar was simple enough, but for Alphard Black, they never tasted as good as they did when lit with Muggle wooden matches. After the stuffy air of the Malfoys' ballroom, he strolled into the cold, clear night and lit his cigar with a match. Then he shook it out and dropped it in the snow, where it made a soft hiss.

The evening had been an interesting one thus far. When he had first seen Sirius enter with his young lady, the eye-catching display had startled him. Everyone watched her because she seemed to be almost lit from within. Could it be her feelings for Sirius that filled her with that gorgeous light? Alphard considered it as he examined the pretty little thing. The girl was dressed in magnificent, low-cut silk robes that fit her curvaceous figure, and every wizard in the room, including Alphard, gazed at her with an appreciative eye. _Good lad! _he congratulated Sirius silently for landing such a girlfriend as that.

Later, though, Walburga had been bragging almost nonstop that the princess and Sirius had an "agreement" that they would marry as soon as she was legally able. Had the pair been set up by their parents? Alphard had always been terrifically fond of Sirius, so he was sorry to think that the boy had finally been forced to conform to his parents wishes.

On the other hand, Alphard had seen the two of them dancing together. It was hard to imagine anyone not noticing them, for they looked happy as they laughed together and gazed at each other with affection. During the dance, scattered light spilled from them, lovely ephemeral light like quicksilver. There was definitely tenderness between them for which no spell or potion was responsible. No, there wasn't a Black alive who could fabricate the magic he had seen between Sirius and his little princess!

By chance, Alphard came upon young Regulus sharing a story with a group of young people. " – spent all night alone together in his room. And today, she told my mother that she wanted to take a nap after lunch."

"A nap?" asked one of the girls.

"Like a baby?" asked another incredulous young witch.

"Yep," said Regulus, "and less than ten minutes later. Sirius went creeping upstairs and spent hours alone with her."

"Your mum didn't care?" asked one of the boys, sounding envious.

"Well, she figures the princess might as well marry Sirius as anybody."

The fool. The idiot. He meant to damage his brother in order to elevate himself and had no idea that he was only harming the young lady's reputation. A certain part of Alphard was glad that Sirius had been able to spend time alone with his girlfriend. On the other hand, who knew what the girl's parents would do if people started talking about her and Sirius, who already had an awful reputation among the pureblood families.

"I believe it is a custom in Italy to take a rest after the midday meal," Alphard broke in, stepping towards the group.

Regulus stared at him in shock. "Uncle!"

Alphard gazed around at the startled faces of the young witches and wizards gathered there. "Regulus, I'd like to speak to you."

The boy blanched and looked at his companions as if seeking a means of escape. "Um..."

"Excuse us," Alphard said to the others, and they all murmured and moved away rather quickly. When they had a bit of privacy, he said, "If you ruin Sirius's chances with the princess, your mother won't forgive you."

"Ruin his chances?" repeated the boy in astonishment. "What do you mean?"

"By spreading your tale, whether it's true or not. Can you imagine what the girl's parents are going to say when they hear such gossip?"

Regulus's face went even whiter. "What?" he managed to say through bloodless lips.

"For Merlin's sake, lad," muttered Alphard. "They'll forbid their daughter from seeing Sirius again, and you can imagine how displeased your mother will be with you."

As realization dawned on him, Regulus shook his head a little but couldn't speak. Alphard actually felt badly for him.

"No use worrying now," he cajoled. "Just watch what you say in the future." The poor lad didn't seem too cheered, though.

Later in the evening, when the pair had stumbled into the ballroom looking as if they had been savaged, Sirius had hardly been able to walk and had leaned heavily on the girl. Some injury to her eyes had bled all over her face and the front of her robes. Quite a gruesome sight in the finery of the Malfoys' ballroom. A terrible thought had occurred to Alphard: was someone jealous of Sirius's happiness? More than likely among these witches and wizards. Would the princess's parents disapprove of her marrying into the Black family after this? How could they not?

Alphard had not been able to hear what the youngsters said; however, both Orion and Walburga looked grim. It was enough to convince Alphard that his first thought must be right and that they must truly be worried that this incident would be enough to break the engagement. Then Regulus had fetched two cloaks for Sirius and the girl to allow the young couple to go outside.

And here they were. Down a gently sloping lawn was Sirius sitting sprawled on a bench. The girl was perched upon his knee, sniffling and occasionally swabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. In one hand, she held a wand, and a soft, pinkish light emanated from the tip making tiny circles near Sirius's shoulder. She was speaking Italian as she wept, lots of quickly spoken words, and even though he couldn't understand the language, Alphard felt certain that she was upbraiding Sirius for not being careful, for fighting, for getting hurt. Typical female.

Sirius watched her with a fond smile as one hand slowly rubbed her lower back and strayed a bit lower. Alphard grinned as he puffed on his cigar. The randy bugger! Sitting out here with his hand rubbing the girl's bottom while she fretted over him!

The thought that he should walk in the opposite direction and leave the young lovebirds alone tempted him; however, he was quite concerned that the young lady really should see a Healer. Walburga had seen that the girl's robes were cleaned of blood but, for whatever reason, had not had her examined by a professional. Hoping that action now could prevent her parents from blaming Sirius, Alphard strolled down towards them instead.

"– attack bird," Sirius was saying. "Where did you get him?"

"My brother bought Cacciala and enchanted her for me," she explained as she continued to cast the pink light by his shoulder. She seemed to have stopped crying. "For protection because I am weak."

"Well, you can tell him he did a good job," Sirius said. "But he was wrong about you being weak. I thought _I_ was protecting _you_!"

"You were."

"Nah, you're the one who knocked her down," he insisted. "What was it that you did with the Italian magic, anyway? It was like you pulled the floor out from under that hag."

The pretty little princess had knocked someone down? Who?

"That was not me," she insisted, "that was the Goddess reaching through me to help you."

"Well, whatever it was, it was great." His hand moved even lower. "I'll tell Remus he's wasting his time if you can do stuff like that."

"Sirius," she said, sitting up straight and looking at him rather solemnly. "It is not only in your shoulder. It seems... everywhere."

"What you're doing is nice. I'm feeling much better. Do it a bit more." He grinned at her like a contented lion, and Alphard had to stifle a chuckle.

"I have not the skill to heal you correctly," she sighed. "We must go to my mother. She has great abilities."

Sirius replied too low for Alphard to make out; however, the girl embraced Sirius and kissed him upon the temple. "You are so brave," she wept. When had she started crying again? "Something I shall never know."

Sirius was grinning and running both his hands all over her. "Come on. It was brave of you to face up to her," he said.

Face up to whom? Even as he wondered, a chuckle escaped while Alphard blew out cigar smoke as he watched the progress of Sirius's hands. The boy really was shameless in some things. A true Black, that was for certain.

The girl must have heard him, for she leapt up in an instant and stood beside the bench. They had probably used a warming charm when they settled down because when she stood up, her breath became visible puffs in the frigid night air.

"Forgive me for interrupting." Alphard moved closer and into the light so that both of them could see him. Sirius stood up as well, but he swayed a bit on his feet. "I am merely concerned for the young lady's well-being, for she did seem to be badly injured."

She was staring straight at him, and he felt as if some gentle magic penetrated into him in a warm little trickle where her gaze pierced him.

"This is my uncle, Alphard Black," said Sirius to his girl. "Princess Calyxa di Janarra Venier. Of Venice."

"I am very happy to know you, sir," she said in a slightly husky voice before clearing her throat. "And it is Sirius who has been badly hurt, not I."

Well, she was certainly a keeper! Standing there, looking like a young wizard's fantasy girl in her gorgeous, low-cut robes, and expressing her concern for her young man! Yes, Calyxa di Janarra Venier of Venice was certainly good for young Sirius.

"I'm sure that Sirius is far more concerned with you than he is with himself." Alphard went closer and settled himself on the bench. "My boy, you should sit down."

Sirius then flopped back down, drew the girl to again sit upon his knee, and rested his hand on her hip.

"Now, tell me what happened."

Sirius shrugged one shoulder. "Nothing, really. It was stupid."

"His cousin, Bellatrix, attacked us," Calyxa stated. "Without any cause."

"Is that so?" Alphard drew on his cigar. Had this slim little thing faced _Bellatrix?_ In a duel? And knocked her down? "It doesn't take much to set her off, but there must have been some reason, however minor."

Sirius sighed. "Calyxa didn't realize, but Lucius was admiring her, and Narcissa didn't like it. Bella hates me anyway, and she probably figured that hurting Calyxa would hurt me."

"Makes sense." Walburga and Orion would certainly have something to say to Bellatrix about _that_, he thought with a wry smile. He watched the affectionate, concerned way that Calyxa frowned at Sirius. "Do you intend to take the princess back into the ball?"

Sirius, who looked like he never wanted to move from this spot, seemed startled. "Do you mind if we don't go back?" he asked her.

"I do not," she replied. "It would not be good for you, certainly. However, I must say thank you and goodnight to the host and hostess."

"I don't think there's any need for that tonight. Perhaps the best thing would be for Sirius to take you home," Alphard suggested gently. "After all, he's responsible for taking care of you."

"Yeah," the lad agreed, but he was frowning. "I just don't know how we'd get her things. I mean, she's staying with us, and her clothes and stuff are at home."

"That is no matter," said Calyxa. "But I cannot leave you there alone. They will be too displeased that I have escaped. And I certainly cannot leave without thanking them and saying goodbye."

"They won't care,' Sirius insisted.

Well, she certainly had remarkably fine manners, but she'd stick out among the Blacks if she did actually marry Sirius. The thought that this sweet little girl had bested Bellatrix still amazed him, though. Maybe she'd be able to hold her own among the Blacks.

"Sirius," she said softly, "I must insist that you meet with my mother. You need to be healed." She turned to Alphard. "Please, sir, can you not speak some words that will persuade him to agree?"

Before replying, Alphard considered what to do. It wasn't difficult to see that all Sirius wanted was to be alone with the girl; however, she was sincerely concerned for his well-being. "Young lady," he began, "perhaps it would be best if you went home with Sirius. Although he was injured, he'll be all right for one night. Tomorrow, he'll take you home, and then you can ask your mother to see to him. Sirius will agree to that."

"Sure," the boy said. "Though I really don't need it."

"If Princess Calyxa's mother is a skilled Healer, then it will be for her to determine what you need," Alphard advised before turning to the girl. "Be sure that your parents understand that Sirius was a good escort and that he wasn't responsible for what happened."

"Yes, of course." She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Well, lad," he said as he got to his feet. "You've found yourself quite a nice girl. You take care not to let her get away."

When he left them, Sirius was trying to convince her that he was well enough to Apparate, and the girl was fretting. It made Alphard chuckle and recall the days of his youth long before. As he walked back up toward the house, he wondered what was to be done with Bellatrix. If tonight's stunt ruined Sirius's chances with the princess, there was no telling what Walburga and Orion would do. He hoped that it wouldn't affect the "understanding" between the youngsters, but more for Sirius's sake than for Bella's.


	29. What Calyxa Saw, Part 2

_Un piccolo bacio può racchiudere l'amore più grande.  
_One little kiss can contain the grandest passion.

_Cos'è un tuo bacio? Un lambire di fiamma. _  
What is your kiss? A lick of flame.

* * *

**Chapter 28: What Calyxa Saw, Part 2 **

Calyxa returned late to the Hogwarts School; she missed the first day of classes and arrived at the castle at the dinner hour. It had been so nice to speak the Venetian dialect of Italian and to be with her parents and brother that she had been pleased to spend another day with them. Mamma wasn't feeling her best, but she had assured them that she would feel better when she was home.

After leaving her cloak and other belongings in her dormitory room, Calyxa went down to the Great Hall. Although she was not particularly hungry, she was eager to see Jillian and Remus. Dinner was mostly over, and some students had begun drifting out of the Hall. She didn't see Remus, so she went over to where Jillian was sitting with their other two roommates, Ellen and Felicity.

"Calyxa!" exclaimed Felicity. "How was it?"

"Pardon?" Calyxa took a seat with them.

"We heard you spent Christmas with _Sirius Black_." Her voice dropped to a whisper when she said his name. "Tell us all about it!"

How had they heard about that? "There is not much to tell. I spent time with his family and went to a ball."

"Yeah, we heard," said Felicity impatiently. "But what about you and Sirius?"

"What about us?" Calyxa did not understand why she was so curious. She sensed similar things from the others, so she looked at Ellen and Jillian in puzzlement.

Jillian sighed. She seemed worried, but the others seemed more envious than anything. "People are saying that you and Sirius were... sleeping together. At his house. It's the big gossip that's going around."

The euphemism Calyxa had heard before, so it only took a second for her to understand what Jillian meant. "Sleeping together," she replied and then laughed. "What a horrible expression it is!"

"It's true?" asked Jillian in shock, and Calyxa studied her for a moment. It was lovely to feel her concern and worry.

"I can't believe you're doing the dirty deed with Sirius 'Mr. Gorgeous' Black!" Felicity exclaimed. "Lucky!"

"Are you two really engaged?" asked Ellen.

Calyxa felt an urge to laugh. Just about everyone within earshot was listening to their conversation. To discuss such private matters in public! "No, none of it is true," she told them just loud enough for those around them to hear. "We are only friends."

"But he asked you out!" Felicity protested. "I mean, he took you home to meet his parents!"

"No, actually, his mother wrote to my mother to invite me to visit them," Calyxa explained. "Neither of us had much of a choice."

After that, Calyxa considered the matter closed. Felicity and Ellen were disappointed, but Jillian seemed relieved and satisfied. They chatted about her trip to visit her grandmother in Wales, and everything about Sirius seemed to be forgotten until Calyxa saw Remus up at his table and her heart gave a lurch. She excused herself from the girls and walked over to where he was sitting.

He didn't see her approach, but Sirius did and stood up. Only then did Remus look and see her; he got up as well and a grin spread across his face. "Happy new year," he said when she was close enough.

"To you as well," she replied, smiling happily at him. Before the Goddess! He was beautiful! The lovely, warm feelings of again being with him, near him, filled her with a blissful haze. During the past few days, she had missed that feeling.

Before either of them had a chance to say anything else, Sirius stepped in. "I'm sorry about all this," he told her in a low voice. "It was my brother who started telling people. Bloody arsehole."

It took a second to switch her attention to him from Remus, but when she did, she felt a terrible cold pain in him. "They hurt you again," she replied in shock.

His dark, mutinous expression became closed. He glanced at Remus. "Let's take a bit of a walk, shall we?"

"Good idea," said Remus, and Sirius slipped his arm around Calyxa's waist to escort her out of the Great Hall.

It made her smile: if he was trying to disprove the gossip, he was certainly not doing a very good job of it with his hand resting possessively upon her waist! However, Remus did not seem to mind at all, and it would be worse for her to shrug off his arm or pull away from him while _everyone_ was watching.

"Tell me what happened," she asked as soon as they were through the doorway. "Did you quarrel with your mother?"

"I guess you could say that." Now that the three of them were alone, Sirius let go of her, and they strolled together down towards the classrooms where they were unlikely to be disturbed.

Calyxa looked at Remus, but he just shook his head sadly at her. "Please tell me," she urged. The pain inside him was horrible!

"There's not much to tell, really. I told her that between her and Bella and the rest of the family, it would be a miracle if your folks would let you keep going out with me. Turns out, it was the wrong thing to say."

She nodded, looking down. When he had taken her home, Mamma had healed a frightening amount of damage that was mostly a result of old spells his parents had used to punish him. Although she was as kind and serene as ever to Sirius, it had troubled Mamma very deeply. When he had gone, she had embraced Calyxa and said that helping Sirius had been the right thing to do.

"I've left home," he continued. "Gone to James's. Most of my stuff is here anyway, so there wasn't much to take."

She stopped walking. _Left home_ . Now, she understood the source of his acute pain. If only such emotional torment could be healed with magic the same way as physical ailments! Both Sirius and Remus had stopped and turned back to her. "I am sorry," she said, looking up at him with a sorrowful expression.

For a second, she thought that the surging emotions were going to overwhelm him; then, however, he gave his familiar bark of laughter. "I'm not!" he declared. "It's great to be out of there!"

Calyxa did not believe him; she doubted that Remus did either. She nodded slowly, though. Maybe it was his way of coping with the extraordinary pain.

"Well." Sirius looked from one to the other and back and smiled. "I guess I'll just leave you two alone to say a proper hello."

A hot blush crept to her cheeks as he winked and turned to go back along the corridor. When she turned to Remus, he was looking at her with a smile. "Hello, then," he said.

She reached to embrace him and kiss him gently upon the mouth. For certain, kissing him was one of the most exquisite sensations she had ever experienced.

"That was a lovely hello," he teased. Then he took her hand and began to lead her further away from the Great Hall. "Sirius told me everything that happened from his point of view." He opened the door to one of the empty classrooms and brought her inside. " _Lumos_. He was sorry that he had to propose to you."

"He was not able to breathe," she told him. Why was he bringing her in here? Perhaps to kiss her and touch her? Her erratic heartbeat shook her whole body at the thought.

"Yeah." He took her by the waist and lifted her onto the teacher's desk so that she was sitting in front of him. Now their eyes were level with the other. "He said his mum's curse was choking him." He studied her. "And that you two kissed in front of his family."

"I told him he would owe you very much," she said with a smile. By the power of Leukothia, she was going to die of excitement! "And he said, in his ruffian way, that I would have to make it up to you."

"His _ruffian_ way?" Remus grinned but seemed somewhat preoccupied. "Can you show me that memory?"

The request surprised her, and she wondered if he was jealous. He did not seem to be, for she sensed nothing of the sort from him. On the contrary, he seemed interested, eager, excited. Those feelings from him made her feel excited as well.

She took his hands and gazed into his eyes. Usually, people wanted to see her difficult or painful memories, so this was easy. There they were in front of the Black's house. She showed him how she walked in the snow with Sirius, how he choked out his reluctant proposal, how awful it all was. Then she showed him how Regulus had spied on them and how she had kissed Sirius while his mother was watching. The kiss had lingered only a moment, and it had been an enjoyable kiss, for Sirius was attractive and had a good scent. In such things as physical attraction, Calyxa had learned that scent was very important.

Remus placed his hands on her shoulders. "What about _my_ scent?" His voice was warm, amused, and... something else.

Calyxa blinked and cleared the memory. His hands were sliding down her arms, and his eyes looked dark, but he was smiling.

"Your scent is wonderful," she told him honestly.

He moved closer, nudging her knees apart. Calyxa felt her heart flutter all the way to her throat as he leaned to kiss her, and she met him halfway. She had kissed other boys, but she had not liked any of them as much as she liked him.

His mouth moved to her ear. "Your scent is bloody marvelous as well," he murmured, and she shivered as her skin prickled all over her body. Jealous? Had she thought he might be jealous of Sirius? This was far from it. This was quite far from it. Almost opposite, in fact. He kissed her ear and jaw and then kissed her mouth again while one hand rubbed her back.

_Un piccolo bacio può racchiudere l'amore più grande_.

She reached to touch him, his chest and shoulders, his face and hair. Opening her senses completely, she could feel everything that he felt, and the sensation was exquisite. She was no stranger to passions and had witnessed others who had felt such things. Although only sixteen, Remus had a man's desire, and he was far more beautiful than any other man she had ever met.

He was kissing her open-mouthed now, and the delicate touch of his tongue surprised her. His tongue probed into her mouth and touched hers in a silken caress. Losna!

_Cos'è un tuo bacio? Un lambire di fiamma_.

Her whole body arched involuntarily against him, and a low moan rumbled in her throat. His hands were stroking her back and sides now. They had not moved around front, not yet, but she wanted them to! Deep within him, she sensed the red-hot passion growing. She had sensed the same thing in others but never _for her_. It gave her a heady feeling of power. Yes, her mother had told her about this.

_When a man is at his most vulnerable, you must be kind to him_, Peziza had told her. _It is very easy to control a man by controlling his ferocious passions, but you must be careful not to hold any man in thrall by such means. Some devious and capricious witches delight in torturing men this way, but they are to be pitied because they otherwise feel insignificant_.

Could she control Remus? Curiosity and vanity got the better of her. Some mischievous part of her wanted to test him. Her arm let go of his neck and slithered down. Gently, she rubbed his chest and then his belly; she shifted to rub her leg against his groin. These actions she performed knowing full well what effect they would have on the man who desired her.

His reaction was immediate and dramatic. He grasped her firmly by the hips and pulled her against him hard, rubbing and breathing in little gasps. The sensual kiss was forgotten, and he buried his face against her neck. "Calyxa," he muttered gutturally as he shuddered against her.

Two things shocked her. First, she could feel quite strongly through all their layers of winter clothing that he was ready for... mating. There was no way for a man to hide such swollen arousal. Worse, though, and far more terrifying for an inexperienced fifteen-year-old, she realized that her own body was ready. Heat and wetness that she had never felt before was spreading down between her legs, and every bit of flesh was tingling with sensitivity. He wanted her badly, and she was ready for him.

In this position, bent back and with her legs spread apart, she felt far too open and vulnerable. In blind panic, she pushed against his chest with her hand. "No. Remus, stop."

"What?" As if he had been dragged from the depths of a deep sleep, he straightened up a little and blinked at her. His eyes looked heavy, drugged, and his voice was thick. His strong hands still held her possessively, and the violence of her own feelings frightened her.

"Let me go," she whispered, pushing against his chest with all her strength.

He released her immediately. "Have I hurt you?" he asked quickly, worriedly, as he stepped back.

"No," she said quickly as she wrapped her arms tight around herself. Her voice sounded weak. "Forgive me. I was afraid." On the last word, her voice cracked. She was too ashamed to look at him.

For two long minutes, there was a deep silence, so she glanced at him. He was not looking at her, but his expression was angry, disgusted, appalled... Seeing him look like that drove a dagger into her heart.

_It is my own fault and no more than I deserve_, she thought as she buried her face in her hands. _I teased him and tortured him in my selfish curiosity. I am worse than those foolish ones who seek to control men to flatter their own vanity, for I care for him more deeply than any other._

Her punishment was complete. She deserved all this and more for stupidity. Her mother had told her explicitly that she must not do such things without meaning full well to see them through to the end. Janarra simply did not tease partners for their own amusement. She had ill-used the beautiful boy, and she must now accept the consequences.

_After he was so selfless, so intent on helping me and helping his friend_ /i , she thought. i _No one deserves to be treated in such a way, least of all him_ /i . She rubbed her hands over her face. i _Losna, teach me humility so that I shall never again seek to flatter my own vanity._

Eventually, shame receded and she became aware again that she was sitting upon a desk in a classroom and that Remus had not made a sound for more than ten minutes. She raised her head and looked at him. He was turned away from her with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. Such posture bespoke volumes to her, for he was protecting himself against her, against her who had abused him.

"I am sorry," she said aloud in that awful silence. "Forgive me. This is my fault."

"No," he muttered, sounding partially angry and partially regretful. "It was my fault, and I'm the one who's sorry."

_His_ fault? She stared at him, but even though he had turned a bit towards her, he still didn't look at her. What had he done? He certainly had nothing to be sorry for! Calyxa pushed herself off the desk and went to him. "Remus, please believe me – "

"No!" he muttered harshly, taking hold of her hand when she would have touched his arm. "Let's just forget this, okay? Please?"

"Yes, of course," she agreed, not understanding. He was not even looking at her. His eyes were on the floor.

"Have you heard about the Charms project?"

What was he talking about? The rapid change of subject disoriented her. "Pardon?"

He held her hand firmly with both of his, as if he had to be prepared to wrestle her away by twisting her arm if she made a sudden motion to touch him. "There's a Charms project Flitwick is having. Any fifth or sixth years can try out. I thought you could be my partner. You have to have a partner."

At that moment, Calyxa had no idea what to say, even in Italian. Of course, her mother would have said one sentence to diffuse the situation, but the fifteen-year-old witch had neither the skill nor the knowledge. This horrible glossing over of the deep emotions that had passed between them – that were still passing between them – was more than she could bear.

"Yes," she said in a near whisper. "I shall... I shall be honored." Large, trembling tears splattered onto her cheeks.

He must have noticed, for he let go of her hand and took a step back and away from her. "I really am sorry." He sounded shaken, distressed.

Blind with tears, she couldn't see him, couldn't sense what he was feeling. She turned away so he would not see, and a terrible sob escaped her.

"Bollocks," he muttered fiercely.

And that was it. He was gone. The room was empty of his presence, and Calyxa felt a huge surge of grief well up in her, and she wept alone.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** A little taste of things to come. 


	30. What Sonnagh Saw

**Chapter 29: What Sonnagh Saw**

The news that Calyxa was going out with – and was engaged to – Sirius Black elicited mixed feelings in Sonnagh Mitchell. Because he knew Italian, Calyxa liked speaking with him, and in all her volumes, she had made several polite little comments that, taken as a whole, expressed a rather decided dislike for Black. After that, though, Sonnagh had seen her dancing with Black at the Halloween Dance, and he wasn't sure about anything. Then again, all the girls had a thing for Black. He was that kind of good-looking, arrogant bloke.

Since she had returned from the winter break two days earlier, Calyxa had been absolutely dull and miserable. It worried Sonnagh because the girl had become the subject of extremely cruel gossip after apparently spending the night with Black. It concerned him enough to ask Jillian Kipping about it.

"She says they're just friends," Jillian told him in confidence. "Their parents set them up and they figured they might as well go out with each other a few times to get the pressure off."

"Pressure?" he asked.

"Pressure to find an 'appropriate' partner," she sighed. "You know. Rich, upper class, pureblood."

After hearing that, Sonnagh felt even worse for Calyxa. Although she did have a tendency towards absolute certainty in her beliefs bordering on outright arrogance, she was a genuine person who didn't deserve to be the butt of such tales. Black was to blame for letting the talk go on without making any attempt to defend the girl. Even if they weren't really dating, Black knew well enough what people were saying about the two of them. The mannerless prat had a responsibility to defend her good name and reputation. Knowing Black, he was probably enjoying the attention with no concern whatsoever for the girl's good name.

The final straw for Sonnagh came when a Ravenclaw seventh year told him that he had rescued Calyxa from the amorous attentions of two Slytherin boys. Apparently, the little witch had not had a problem fighting them off, but still, Black couldn't let other blokes go around manhandling his girlfriend like that!

When he asked her about it, Calyxa seemed remarkably poised even though he thought she must be quite shaken up. "It was nothing I had not seen before," she told him as if she was fighting off male attention every day. Perhaps she was still in shock.

That evening, Sonnagh intercepted Black on his way back to the castle after Quidditch practice. Potter was with him, of course, but that was about as private as things were going to get with Black.

"It seems as though Grant Westlin rescued your girlfriend today from some randy Slytherins."

"What?" Black stopped walking and frowned at him.

"Poor Calyxa," Sonnagh continued. "Apparently, they thought that since she's so free with her charms with you that she ought to share a bit with them as well."

Black's eyes flashed in anger. "Why, you bloody – "

Sonnagh cut him off. "Don't tell me that you don't know everyone's talking about her that way."

"'Course I know," he insisted, but he was still glaring at Sonnagh.

"Kipping says you're just going out because your parents set you up. Well, that's your business, but you shouldn't let anyone get away with saying such rude, nasty things about your girl."

"I _don't_ let anyone get away with it!" Black declared with a fiery glare.

"Then what are you going to do about it?" Sonnagh challenged. "She'll never say a word of complaint, but that girl needs you to stand up for her, shut the mouths of those idiots. If you don't defend her, who will?"

"Do you know who the Slytherins were?" Potter asked. "The ones picking on her?"

"No," Sonnagh admitted. "But I think Westlin knows them. He says that Calyxa scratched their faces while she was fighting them off."

"Scratched?" That got Black's attention.

"Yeah. He said one of 'em had tried to feel her up, and she must've really let him have it."

Black's expression changed. Instead of looking angry and annoyed, now he was grim, and something almost sinister in his eyes worried Sonnagh. "You mean they _put their hands_ on her?"

The Irish boy nodded. "And apparently, they're not the only ones who've tried it. The girl doesn't deserve to be treated that way. You've got to do something and stop all this nonsense."

"He's right." Potter looked grave. "It's gone too far."

"Oh, I intend to do something about it, all right." His voice was calm and relaxed, but his eyes were hard, and Sonnagh knew he'd never want to have Black as an enemy.

There were a few seconds of silence as they all began to walk back to the castle. "She said she was on her way down to the hospital wing to visit Lupin," said Sonnagh.

"Yeah, he's ill again," said Potter. "Poor bloke's got a weak chest."

Sonnagh nodded. "Listen, Black, don't let Calyxa know that I told you about this. I think she didn't want to upset you."

"No, I won't. It's all right." Black sighed. "But let me know if you hear anything else that anyone says about her. Anything bad. I'll take care of it."

* * *

And he did. Of course, Potter was helping him, Sonnagh knew, and the two of them together were a fearsome team. Two Slytherin boys – the same ones, Sonnagh knew, because they still had scratches on their faces – ended up spending the night down in the hospital wing. Sonnagh heard that it was Black who was responsible. He heard they'd hung the two offenders out a fifth-storey window by their ankles, but he doubted it was true. Black and Potter were far more creative and imaginative than that.

That was only the beginning. The word soon went around that Black would deal personally with anyone who spread gossip about his girlfriend. Sonnagh wasn't sure how he found out about everything, but he and Potter seemed to know what was going on in every corner of the school.

The day after his conversation with Black, Sonnagh headed down to the classroom where Calyxa had her Defense lesson with Lupin at just about the time when they should be finishing up. Lupin had been in hospital a couple of days, but he was back now, Sonnagh knew. He wanted to check that the Italian witch was recovered from her shock and see if she had heard about what happened to her attackers.

The door stood open and he froze in the doorway. His first conscious thoughts were that Lupin looked pasty and weak. Calyxa was standing very close to him, and she was hesitantly reaching up to touch his face. Sonnagh couldn't see her expression, but Lupin was looking at Calyxa with tenderness and affection. Then he drew the girl into his arms and kissed her.

Sonnagh felt uncomfortable, like a Peeping Tom, having seen something he shouldn't have, so he turned away and walked back up the hall. If they knew he had seen, Calyxa probably wouldn't care, but Lupin would be angry and embarrassed. Sonnagh was embarrassed just to have seen another bloke look that way!

He had walked nearly all the way to his dormitory when he wondered about Black. He and Lupin were the best of friends, and Sonnagh knew that there was no way a girl, any girl, would come between them. What was going on? Sonnagh considered what Jillian had said about Calyxa and Black just going out a few times to please their parents. What was Black thinking? When he could have any girl at Hogwarts, why was he playing around with his mate's girlfriend? And how could Lupin stand it?

_If it was me, I'd never let her go out with someone else for any reason,_ he thought. _Whatever they're up to, I hope it's worth it. _

Before the next lesson, Professor Flitwick told Sonnagh that from then on, they would have to meet in the Ravenclaw common room. The Charms professor didn't explain why, so Sonnagh guessed he'd find out from Calyxa.

He had never been inside any of the other dormitories before, and it was strange to have a lesson in a common room. Since they spoke in Italian, no one could eavesdrop, but he wondered how the other tutors coped. Actually, Lupin and Lily Evans probably didn't care, but he would bet Snape hated it!

Calyxa seemed recovered from her funk, and Sonnagh guessed that she had been worried about Lupin while he was in hospital. "I have been banned from using the library for our lessons," she informed him. "I can go there for research if there are no more outbursts."

"Outbursts? What happened?"

"Well, two things, really," she went on. "Two unrelated things. First of all, Remus and I have decided to be partners for Professor Flitwick's Charms project."

"You have?" Black and Potter had signed up for that and they were a shoo-in to win. Most people wouldn't go up against them, and only two other teams had signed up so far. The addition of Calyxa and Lupin made it a total of four teams.

"Yes, so in addition to the lesson, we're working on preparing our project." She smiled with a mischievous look in her eyes. "Sometimes when I'm concentrating, I tend to pace and think out loud. Madam Pince didn't like it very much and gave me a warning."

Sonnagh grinned. It was hard to imagine someone as polite and gentle as Calyxa getting a warning in the library. "And the other thing?"

She sighed in exasperation and her brows lowered, which gave her and irritated expression. "I had a terrible row with Sirius. Madam Pince made us leave, and we can't go back."

"A _row_? In the _library_?" He couldn't imagine it.

"Yes. Well, he's been hexing everyone who makes a negative comment about me. He and James have been terrible bullies, really cruel. I made him promise to stop."

Sonnagh squelched an even huger grin as he imagined soft-spoken little Calyxa demanding that Black apologize and promise never to do it again. "And did he promise?"

"Certainly." She sounded surprised that he had had to ask. _Of course_ Black had promised to stop hexing people, and she had _made_ him do it.

It made Sonnagh wonder what the devil was going on between them. Jillian had been certain that it was nothing, and Sonnagh had seen for himself the depth of the attachment between Calyxa and Lupin. But what about Black? How had she made him promise? The Italian witch who had to consider every word before she said it had compelled one of the most talented wizards at school to stop hexing people? It seemed impossible, unbelievable.

One thing was for certain, Sonnagh knew. There was no chance that Black was going to be able to keep that promise!


	31. What Madam Pince and Prof Flitwick Saw

**Chapter 30: What Madam Pince and Professor Flitwick Saw**

For half a year, Irma Pince had not had any trouble at all with the young witch from Italy; when the students returned in the new year, however, the girl was engaged to Sirius Black. Amidst scandalous stories of what the two students had done at the Black family home, it should have come as no surprise that association with Black had influenced the girl.

The first time that Miss di Janarra caused trouble, Irma had no idea what was happening. She looked up with an unpleasant frown creasing her brow. The quiet of the library was being disturbed by voices – a girl's, mostly, and the occasional reply of a boy. And it was not once, it was repeated.

Annoyed, the librarian set down her quill and set off to see who was creating the disturbance. She was quite shocked to find that it was the silent Italian witch. Before, Irma had just assumed that the girl's stilted way of speaking was a speech impediment. Now, she could hear that Miss di Janarra was perfectly capable of fluent speech.

The young witch was pacing with her hands clasped behind her back. She was speaking to one of her tutors, Remus Lupin. The boy was generally a quiet student except when in the company of his unruly friends, Black and Potter. Now, he was grinning as the girl paced alongside the table and called instructions to him about some complicated spell they seemed to be discussing.

"Miss di Janarra! What do you think you're doing?"

The girl stopped and blinked as if just becoming aware of her surroundings. "Ah. Madam Pince. Forgive me. I sometimes think out loud."

"Such things are not permitted in the library," Irma snapped. She didn't care for the girl's offhand manner, as if such a feeble excuse was an acceptable reason to cause a ruckus in the library. "And you should have known better," she continued to Lupin. "A prefect!"

"Sorry, Madam Pince." The young wizard stood up. "We had a great idea and were getting a bit carried away. It won't happen again."

Irma felt her annoyance abating. The boy was exceedingly polite. "See that it doesn't. Another such disturbance, and I'm going to tell Professor Flitwick that you're no longer welcome in the library."

"Yes, ma'am," said Lupin, but the girl just looked astonished, which rankled Irma even more. She let the incident pass, however.

And then, the same week, the relative peace of the library was again shattered by the sound of excited voices. With a grimace, Irma headed over to the area where the Italian witch sat with her tutors.

This evening, the tutor was Lily Evans, but she was sitting at the table in stunned silence as the troublemaker, Calyxa di Janarra, stood arguing with the other troublemaker, Sirius Black. His usual partner-in-crime, James Potter, stood by Miss Evans's chair and watched with a frown.

"You had no right to tell her. Or anyone!" Black fumed.

"I knew you would not go without being compelled," replied the girl calmly. "I am not sorry. I am glad you were healed."

"What on earth is going on here?" Irma snapped, and Black bit back whatever retort he had been about to make. "Miss di Janarra, this is the second time this week you've disturbed the library."

The girl frowned at her. "That is true, but even you must agree that there are some things that are more important than a quiet library."

Irma was too shocked at the girl's audacity to reply, as were the others, and there was a moment of silence as they all stared at her. A long moment passed where nothing happened, and then Black seemed to recover. He pulled out his wand. "_Finite Incantatem_." Then he shot a warning glance at his friend, Potter. "It's my fault, Madam Pince. I lost my temper. I hexed Calyxa."

Potter moved, but Irma couldn't keep an eye on both of them at the same time. The Italian witch tried to speak but could not and then looked at Potter with a strange, mournful expression.

"Both of you out," she demanded. "I'm tired of this nonsense, and the headmaster will certainly hear of this."

Looking as if she might cry, the girl nodded and then cast another silent, sad look, but this time at Miss Evans.

"Yes, ma'am," said Black, glancing again at Potter, who nodded. He stepped over to Miss di Janarra and put a hand on her arm.

At first, she stood still, as if she didn't notice his presence. After a second, she moved away from him to cap her ink pot and put it in her bag along with her quill and parchment. When she had slipped the strap over her shoulder, she turned and looked at Irma. It seemed as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't. There were tears in her eyes, and she looked miserable. Only then did she go with Black towards the library exit.

Irma looked at Potter and Miss Evans. "What's wrong with that girl?"

Miss Evans bit her lip. "She's a bit upset, ma'am. I'm sure she didn't mean any disrespect."

"Yeah," said Potter. "Poor girl. I don't think she's feeling her best, either."

Irma looked at the pair skeptically, but both of them seemed to be absolutely sincere. "Well, I never had any problem with her till she took up with your friend," she said accusingly before going back to her desk.

* * *

At the beginning of the school year, Filius Flitwick had come to suspect that the timid Italian witch, Calyxa di Janarra, had a bit of a crush on him. Like all teachers, students occasionally developed such feelings for him, and it was all quite innocent.

When he had heard the gossip about her and Sirius Black, Filius had been as surprised as everyone else. It was hard to imagine such a mismatched pair; however, everyone had seen them dancing together at Halloween. Perhaps it shouldn't have come as such a surprise that they had consummated their relationship, for the pair was obviously very much in love. Filius was just glad that it had happened over the holidays and not at Hogwarts.

Then Albus had told him and Minerva in confidence that he had received a ferocious letter from Mrs. Black. According to her, Sirius had seduced Calyxa at the Black house over the holidays. Mrs. Black stated that she and her husband were disgusted with the boy's lechery in talking advantage of an innocent young girl who was a guest in their house. Albus wanted Minerva and Filius to be aware of the situation since they were the heads of the students' respective Houses.

Although the boy had a habit of tangling with other students whose egos and mouths were as big as his own, none of them believed that Sirius would have taken advantage of anyone, especially not someone weak or vulnerable.

There was not much opportunity for young couples to be alone at the school, but most of the staff thought that Sirius was talented enough to have figured out something. The whole situation was a delicate one, so everyone was keeping a close watch on them. Who knew what those two were capable of? Then they had unfortunately had a lover's spat in the library during one of her lessons.

Filius sat with Albus, looking at the offending pair. Calyxa looked elegant and not terribly concerned, and Sirius's expression was a polite mask. At the time, Filius thought that Calyxa was just more successful at achieving a casual indifference; later, however, he came to the conclusion that she was truly not worried about being punished.

"Madam Pince is rather distraught over the outbursts that have occurred in the library this week," Albus told them mildly. "Now, Sirius, would you care to tell me what it was that sent you to the library to confront Calyxa?"

"Well, I was a bit jealous," the boy began. "Someone's been spreading rumors about her."

Albus nodded.

"I thought she was with some other bloke. It was all my stupid fault."

"Sirius," said Calyxa in a gentle tone full of affection. "There is no need to protect me here." Then she addressed Albus. "Sir, Sirius is seeking to accept all blame when we are both equal in our share of disrupting the silence of the library. It is a brave and chivalrous thing for him to do."

"Indeed," Albus replied, and Filius suspected that his eyes were twinkling.

"Our disagreement was over a private issue between Sirius and me," she went on. "It concerns nothing illegal or immoral, and you have no right to ask us what it was about."

"Calyxa," Sirius said in a warning tone.

"My crime was unforgivable behavior to Madam Pince," she continued, ignoring her lover. "I am ashamed of myself, but I did not realize at the time how rude I was being. For that, I am ready to apologize and accept whatever punishment is due. On the other hand, having a disagreement is not such a crime. Not even in a library."

This oration impressed Filius. It was very eloquently argued and certainly the most she had ever said in English at one time.

"It's not such a big deal and no mystery," Sirius told them. "The truth is that I had an injury and wouldn't go down to the hospital, so Calyxa went and told Madam Pomfrey about it. I know she meant well, but I was a bit angry with her."

Filius couldn't help a smile. The pair was both hilarious and sweetly charming, each attempting to protect the other and both foiling the other's attempts so thoroughly.

Albus again nodded. "Do you both agree that you are equally responsible?

"Yes, sir," they both said.

Filius wondered what Albus intended to do. Delicate Calyxa should not be sent to detention with Filch, but having her and Sirius alone together at detention would be rather dangerous.

"From now on, Calyxa, your lessons will have to take place in your common room. Professor Flitwick will see to it that your tutors are permitted to enter at the appropriate times."

"Yes, sir."

"You will each have three nights' detention with your Heads of House," he went on. "It is one thing to disagree and disrupt the library. It is quite another thing to be untruthful."

Albus looked severely at both of them. Calyxa met his eyes with a nod, but Sirius looked down.

When they were gone, Filius finally allowed himself a chuckle. "I don't know which one of them was trying harder to cover for the other."

"Indeed," Albus remarked, sounding a bit preoccupied. "And what do you think they are hiding?"

These words puzzled Filius. "You think they're still not telling the truth?"

"Oh, no, they're telling the truth." The headmaster lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. "But there is much that they're not telling."

A few days later, Calyxa and Remus Lupin came to see Filius. They had signed up to be partners for the Charms project, which pleased and surprised him. Not many students were willing to compete against the team of Sirius Black and James Potter. Plus, Black was her fiancé! Strange that she would want to go up against him. It would make more sense for the two of them to be partners and leave Potter and Lupin together. Filius imagined that the lovers would be able to present quite a spectacular project.

The problem that they were having, Lupin told him, was that they could not work on their project in either common room because their fellow students were far too curious about what they were planning and tended to eavesdrop. Filius agreed that they could work on their project in his classroom since they were no longer permitted in the library.

When they came to see him again, he couldn't imagine what trouble they had got into this time.

"We'd like to use a potion during our display." Lupin generally spoke for the two of them since the girl's English was a bit slow and stilted. "Neither one of us is much good at potions, and since it a _Charms_ project, we wondered if we could ask someone to help us make it."

Filius considered the request as he gazed at the two of them as they awaited his decision hopefully. Both were excellent students, and he couldn't see any problem in it.

"What potion is it?" he asked.

Before Lupin could answer, Calyxa put her hand upon his arm. "We would rather surprise you," she said. "Of course, we shall tell you if it is truly necessary, but I think you will enjoy being surprised."

She smiled at him very sweetly, and Filius felt a warm glow inside. There really was no reason to know what the potion was, and he knew that both she and Lupin could be trusted.

"Very well, then," he said, smiling back at the young witch and wizard. "I'll allow it, but one of you must actually make the potion that you use in the final display. I'll trust you on that."

"It shall be done as you say," the girl assured him soberly.

"Yes, sir," Lupin agreed. "Thank you."


	32. What Severus Saw, Part 2

warning: language, adult themes  
_La Saggezza delle Streghe_ The Wisdom of the Witches (title of a book)

* * *

**Chapter 31: What Severus Saw, Part 2**

Severus was late. So nervous was he, in fact, that he very nearly did not show up although he had thought of little else all week.

It had all started after dinner one evening two weeks earlier when Calyxa had come over from her Ravenclaw table to the Slytherin one where Severus was sitting with some other boys.

"Good evening," she said cordially. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

He eyed her with a frown. "Does Black permit you to speak to Slytherins?"

The others sniggered; the whole school knew all about her and Black. Calyxa regarded him with a piercing look but did not seem either angry or embarrassed. "Permission or not," she said, "I am sorry to disturb you, but I would like to ask you something about a rather difficult potion."

He studied her for a moment, for she seemed to be telling the truth. "Very well. I'll be in the library later. We can speak then." He knew very well that she wasn't allowed to meet her tutors there.

"Thank you, Severus," she said, which surprised him. "Good evening, gentlemen."

When she was gone, the others laughed and commented on her appearance and attributes and on the specific, and rather clinical, details of what she had done to Black and allowed him to do to her. Severus paid little attention because the same things had been discussed every day since they had come back from their holiday.

In the library later, Calyxa somehow made it past Madam Pince and sat down across from him.

"What's the potion?" he asked without preamble.

"_Beltà fugace_," she told him, giving it the Italian rather that Latin.

His brows lowered. "What are you making _that_ for?" It was indeed a complicated potion to make; however, it was of no real practical use. Rather, it was used for whimsical decorations and lasted only an hour or so. Not worth the effort.

"We need it for our Charms project," she said. "And we'll need two batches, one for the project, and the other one to practice. I would like you to make one and allow me to follow along and make the other."

His frown deepened. "You mean it's for Lupin as well?" he asked with a sneer.

"Well, he is my partner," she said evenly. "But it is I who am asking for your help, not he. I am aware that it is much difficult work, which is – "

"Yes, it is. A lot of work for nothing in return."

A little smile curved her lips and mischief sparkled in her eyes. "What would you have of me?"

For a moment, he sat looking at her without knowing what to say. The way she smiled, the expression on her face, the glint in her eye, seemed to be promising things. It was nothing specific, and it was an odd thing to think of her. Well, it would have been an odd thing to think of her before the holidays, but knowing now about the silent little mouse and Black... The thought sparked an idea, and his eyes glittered. "Break up with Black."

She laughed at that. "That I cannot do."

He paused and chewed on his lip. "Then you'll kiss me," he declared before he could stop himself. He had heard all about how she had learned to kiss in Venice, how all young princesses learned such things. "Teach me to kiss girls so they like it."

She stared hard at him. "You are serious," she said.

"I am very serious." He scowled bitterly. "I'm aware that you find me repulsive, but if I'm going to do all that work for you, then you will just have to endure it."

For a long minute, she sat staring at him, her eyes large and dark, and he regretted having said anything and wished his words unsaid. "You are mistaken," she said very slowly. "I consider you my friend, for you have always been good to me. I do not have any romantic feeling for you, but..." She shook her head. "Repulsive! What a horrible word it is!"

He waited, wondering what she was going to say.

Again, she shook her head. "Severus," she sighed, looking helpless. "I shall agree, then. I shall teach you how to kiss, but I have a condition."

His heartbeat increased. "What's that?"

"Have you a girlfriend now?"

"Me?" He looked at her as if she were insane. "No."

"Well, then, that makes it a bit easier. First of all, you cannot let anyone discover this; you must keep it secret. Also, I need you to promise that you will not try to use this against Sirius. I will not be used as ammunition."

With his blood pounding in excitement, he gazed at her expressionlessly. "Agreed."

She looked at him very soberly and with sincerity. "I ask this not to protect him, as you may think, but to protect you, for he would certainly try to hurt you if you boasted of such a thing."

* * *

After she had been kicked out of the library, Severus had refused to meet her in the Ravenclaw common room. It was her fault after all, and he didn't see why _he_ should have to suffer. Anyway, Professor Slughorn allowed them to meet in the dungeons. Since they were there anyway, it was no problem to actually work on the practical rather than the theoretical. He preferred it that way.

The initial conversation had been two weeks before. Last week had been the first time they had actually worked together on a potion. When Calyxa had set out her equipment, he examined everything with a critical eye. The tools were both familiar and exotic, and he imagined she had bought them in Italy.

From her bookbag, she drew out a flat, beige stone and set it upon the table. "What's that?" he asked in surprise before he could catch himself.

"That is a stone for sharpening knives," she replied. "I do not know the word in English."

He picked it up and studied it and then held it up to eye level. It was cut almost into a perfect square and had a fine, sandy texture to it. "A whetstone, you mean?"

"Wet-stone?" she repeated. "_Wet_-stone, wet as not dry?"

_Stupid_, his mind groaned. "No. _Whet_stone. W-h-e-t-s-t-o-n-e." He set it down, wondering if she would let him use it.

"It is special, Italian stone, very good for sharpening. You may use this _whetstone_ if you wish." She looked at him with a little smile upon her lips, and he got the impression that she was eying him as if he were her prey. "Do you know what this is called in Italian?"

"No." He didn't like the intimidation he was feeling at the way she eyed him, and she was talking more than usual, which annoyed him.

"It is called _una cote_," she told him. "Not knowing a word in a foreign language does not make one stupid."

His eyes met hers. How had she known? Had his thoughts shown that clearly upon his face? He said nothing, and she let it pass, but it gave him something to consider. It was as if she had heard his thoughts. How could she do such a thing?

The work went well. She followed him exactly without deviation, and her potion was just as good as his. With a little swell of pride, he told himself that both excellent batches had resulted from his expertise, and she was just an excellent mimic.

* * *

Now, as he went down late to meet her, he recalled the events of the previous two meetings and considered that this could be some kind of trap, some kind of elaborate prank set up to humiliate him. On the other hand, it was hard to imagine that the serious little Italian witch would waste her time on such a thing. In addition, she had always been kind to him and friendly. She seemed to like him just fine, and the childish antics of her boyfriend and his cronies always made her frown. It was worth the risk, in his eyes, so he showed up. How perfect to know that he was going to be snogging Black's princess without the arrogant prat knowing!

Calyxa was sitting upon one of the desks waiting for him. "Good evening," she said in that strangely formal way of hers. She looked rather pretty in soft blue robes and with her hair unplaited. Not knowing what to say, he did not say anything. He merely forced his feet to walk over to her. Now he felt awkward and stupid. What on earth had possessed him to do this? He should never have asked this of her.

He came to stand next to her – she was sitting on a desk – but could not look at her. There was silence for a few seconds, which stretched out for an eternity. The she took his hand, and he drew in a sharp breath.

"The first thing you need to know is how to touch a girl," she began explaining. "It is necessary long before kissing." Holding his forearm with one hand, she lightly stroked his fingers and the back of his hand. Severus closed his eyes as all his hair stood on end. "Yes, it is nice, is it not?"

Now, she turned his arm over and brushed her fingertips over the inside of his wrist. His eyes opened, and he had to bite his lip. "What kind of spell are you using?" he blurted.

She stopped and looked at him with a frown. "No spell. I am merely touching you."

"But…"

She got up and came to stand in front of him. Very lightly, she placed her hands on his arms above his elbows and stroked upwards to his shoulders, up and back. As he shivered, she said, "It is very nice to be touched."

"Yes," he said in a near-whisper, not looking at her.

"It is always safe to touch a girl's arm or back, but be careful elsewhere." Her fingers pressed lightly against his chest and moved down slowly to his belly. "Never touch her here unless she takes your hand and puts it there herself."

The possibility of ever touching any girl in such a way was so remote that he blinked and looked at her. She was not teasing him, not smiling. She was looking at him rather seriously, and he felt a rush of heat in his face, for her hands were still pressed against his abdomen.

"Remember what I have said." Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders and she stood looking very seriously at him. "Put your hands on my back. And you must lean down to me. You are a bit tall."

Hardly believing it was real, he did as she asked. His trembling, sweaty hands rested on her back, touching the softness of her hair, and he leaned down to kiss her, aiming as best he could to press his mouth to hers. There was nothing he could do but let her take over. She was kissing him, Calyxa di Janarra was kissing him, and he finally knew that this was no prank, no complicated plot to humiliate him once again.

He hardly knew where he was anymore. She was pressed up against him, so soft, and every molecule in his body was alive with electrical impulses. The girl gently broke the kiss and drew back her head, drew back her body, but just a little, to look at him. She did not release his shoulders.

"Severus," she said. "Are you paying any attention at all? Are you going to remember this?"

Remember? His eyes stung. These memories were being seared onto his consciousness with pleasure and pain, and he could not imagine ever kissing another girl. Dumbly, he nodded.

"One more time. Slowly," she said, "and pay very close attention."

Eagerly this time, he bent his head to her again. Her lips caressed his, nibbled, first his lower lip, then she licked, and he opened his mouth for her. Moaning, weak-kneed, he pulled her more firmly against him. He was starting to get aroused.

And then the girl pulled free. The suddenness of her actions startled him after the slow, sensuousness. He blinked as she stepped back from him.

"Grabbing a girl so roughly is an easy way to make her dislike kissing you," she told him.

"I didn't grab you," he insisted, feeling defensive. "Not roughly at all."

One of her hands seized his wrist, and she yanked hard. She wasn't strong, but compared to her earlier delicate touches, it wasn't particularly pleasant.

What was the use anyway? No girl was ever going to let him kiss her even if he knew how to do it really well. He studied Calyxa thoughtfully. Why was she willing to do it, potion or not? She looked at him but never really seemed to see him or anyone. Maybe she didn't really take a good look at people. It was strange to be sure, for she was going out with one of the handsomest boys at the school. He wondered what she did see. "Do you even know what I look like?" he wondered aloud.

Her eyes changed. Instead of the unfocused way she usually regarded him, she gazed clearly at him as if she were seeing him for the first time.

_And she realizes how ugly I am_, he thought bitterly. "What do you usually see when you look at me?"

The sharp gaze faded into its regular softness. "Deep inside, you are very soft. Soft and... golden." She smiled. "But around that is so much pain, like so much broken glass. Shards of glass that cut anyone who comes too near."

He felt his whole body go rigid. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and he hated it. "Stupid," he sneered. But he recalled the Halloween ritual she had performed. That had been before he found out about her and Black, and he had been awed by what he saw, awed by the light and the images in the dark mirrors into which they had all gazed, awed mostly by her embrace and the powerful magic that she had passed into him. "How do you do that?" he demanded.

"First you call it stupid," she replied with a mischievous smile, "and then you wish to know how to do it!"

Severus gritted his teeth to keep from retorting in anger. "There are a lot of ways to do that kind of trick," he replied coolly. "I just wondered which one you were using."

For a long time, she looked at him, something she often did which he really hated. "It is some special Italian magic," she finally told him. "I cannot say anything more, for the secrets of my clan must be kept. Perhaps you may read some chapters of the old Etruscan _La Saggezza delle Streghe_. Let me only say, though, it is ancient magic, and it cannot harm you."

She always reverted to that kind of enigmatic talk, and it annoyed him. "Do you tell Black about it?" he asked with contempt lacing his voice.

"Not at all." The thought seemed to amuse her, which made him feel foolish, and he sought for something cruel to say.

"So you're just fucking him because of his looks?"

She blinked at him in surprise. "Severus," she said with a frown. "I never thought you were one to believe gossip!"

What did that mean? Was she denying it? Regulus Black was an idiot and Severus despised him, but the younger boy had told several people about his brother and Calyxa sleeping together. There was no reason to doubt him.

"Forget it," he muttered as he headed for the door. What use was any of this anyway? She was probably going to tell her boyfriend everything anyway, and then Black and his gang of arrogant friends would be out for blood.

It was only when he was alone later that he remembered every moment of kissing her and wondered in envy and despair what it felt like to do everything she and Black did together.


	33. What the Lupins Saw

**Chapter 32: What the Lupins Saw**

When the Lupins had first met Calyxa di Janarra in December, the girl's appearance was a bit of a surprise: they had expected a friendly, outgoing, lively Italian girl with a dark complexion and flirtatious manner. When Remus introduced his girlfriend to them, they found themselves shaking hands very formally with a grave, pale little girl, a white-faced girl with funny arched eyebrows. _She has a nice figure and lovely eyes_, Mrs. Lupin had told herself, _and Remus likes her and says that she likes him. _

Her mother, the princess, had been gracious, poised, and lovely though seemingly old enough to be the girl's grandmother. The old witch had approved of Remus, and as the romance between the two teenagers blossomed, the Lupins felt as if they were holding their breath all the time, waiting for the inevitable. However, the months went by, and it didn't happen.

In March, Remus wrote to invite them to come up to the school on a Friday evening at the end of the month because he and Calyxa were competing in a Charms Project, and they had a good chance of winning. Pleased at the opportunity of meeting her again, they offered to take Remus for a nice dinner in Hogsmeade afterwards.

When they arrived at the school, Remus reintroduced Calyxa to them. In her school uniform and with her long hair plaited, she looked awfully young and delicate, but Remus was no less enthralled with her than he had been in December.

"Calyxa," Mrs. Lupin said to the girl, who looked up at her with those startlingly intense eyes. "We're going to the village for dinner after the competition, and we'd like you to join us."

The immense eyes studied her for a silent moment. Really, the girl was disturbingly still and calm. Maybe it was an Italian thing? "I am honored," she replied far too formally for someone so young. "I should be delighted."

After that, they had taken their seats and had been entertained by the students' imaginative displays. James Potter and Sirius Black had everyone laughing and applauding as they staged the Hogsmeade Goblin Rebellion of 1612 as if it were a colorful, violent, and absolutely hilarious Quidditch Match. The audience cheered for them, and the Lupins saw James's parents applauding loudly. However, Sirius's parents were nowhere to be seen.

"No surprise," Mrs. Lupin murmured, for they had met the Blacks more than once.

Remus and his girl were the last. After having seen what their son's friends had presented, Mr. and Mrs. Lupin imagined that Remus wouldn't be finishing any higher than second.

The two students appeared up at the front of the Great Hall. For a moment, they clutched each other's hands and spoke in hushed voices. Then they stood back and looked at one another. The candles dimmed and disappeared and all around the walls, a forest appeared illuminated by a night sky lit with innumerable stars and a tiny sliver of a crescent moon. The scent of pine trees wafted on a cold breeze.

"See that?" whispered Mr. Lupin. "No wands."

Calyxa took up a lute and sat down upon a table, where she began to play a pretty, lively tune, and then she began to sing in Italian. Although they didn't understand the words, it was a lovely song tinged with sadness.

And there, through the middle of the Great Hall, a meandering river was flowing. Tall gates made from a thousand blackbirds' feathers opened to reveal a charming village where the cottages were constructed of butterfly wings and the road was paved with pearl and flower petals. A rainbow waterfall tumbled down into the deep blue river

In a field beyond the exquisite cottages, small children were running and singing, but a loud squeak startled them. They all stopped and fell silent as a tiny dragon with royal blue scales and a plump, sweet-looking face fluttered down to the ground among them. Everyone chuckled because it really was the most adorable little thing.

There was a moment of stillness, and then the children gently picked up the baby dragon and set him upon a mossy knoll where they danced and sang for him. The funny little fellow blew little smoke rings for them, and the children tried to catch them like laurels upon their heads.

The music increased in speed and Calyxa's voice became stronger and more serious. A terrible shout arose from the cottages, and many adults appeared with torches, clubs, and pitchforks. The children stopped and crowded together in fear as if they were afraid that they were going to be scolded.

One small girl picked up the little dragon and hugged him, and the other children gathered round her. The adults advanced, shouting, and the children backed away, tightening their circle around the girl holding the baby dragon.

The music and voice were strong and powerful now. A huge flash of light illuminated one end of the hall for about three or four seconds. The Lupins could see Remus standing over a flaming cauldron drawing out a massive bubble of liquid with his wand. His shadow loomed high up on the wall, which was not really a wall at the moment but was a forest and the velvety dark sky over it. And then the huge bubble rose over his head, and he cast it up onto the ceiling which was the scattered stars of the evening sky…

An enormous clap of thunder shook the ground, and from Remus's potion emerged a dragon of incalculable size, scarlet red and trailing a pennon of fire from its mouth. His fiery breath scorched the treetops and the audience could feel the heat. Another clap of thunder, and there was an emerald green dragon sailing out, and then another, a violet one, and finally, a golden one.

As the massive beasts streaked across the night sky, the adults below retreated very quickly to their cottages. The children sang and danced, holding their little friend, the baby dragon, up among them, and it blew joyful smoke rings that rose up among his brothers and sisters.

Finally, one of the children tossed him up into the air three times, and on the third toss, the little dragon fluttered up with his wings beating like a hummingbird's to join with his fearsome family. One by one, the immense beasts roared loud enough to shake the castle to its foundations and then sailed out the main doors to the Great Hall. With a last squeak of farewell, the little dragon grasped the tail of his older sister, the golden dragon, and disappeared with her out the door.

In all the action, the song had been forgotten, but as the images melted away and faded back into the normal walls of the Great Hall, the notes on the lute grew slower and ended. The amazement that the Lupins felt must have been shared by the others in the audience, for there was an odd silence for what seemed a long time. Calyxa leapt off the table with the neck of her lute clutched in her left hand, and Remus strode over to embrace her, both of them laughing in delight.

The applause began after that and quickly built up to a deafening crescendo with hoots and calls and whistles thrown in by the enthusiastic student body. The panel of teachers who were judging the competition, led by diminutive Professor Flitwick, glanced wide-eyed at each other, but the Lupins were watching their son, who had never looked happier to them then at that moment.

* * *

It was a bit later than they had expected, but they did not mind waiting. Remus came down, hair combed and dressed in clean robes rather than his uniform. 

"Did you see?" he asked excitedly.

Oh, yes, they had seen. They had seen it all. They had seen James and Sirius receive their second-place prize with good humor, and they had seen how Remus and Calyxa had looked at each other before they were presented with their trophy. They had also seen James slapping Remus's back heartily in congratulations, and they had seen Sirius squeezing Calyxa in a bear-hug and planting a rather dramatic kiss upon her mouth before letting her go. The girl had pushed him away immediately, but Sirius, as was his way, remained cheeky and unchastened. Remus hadn't seen it, and they were determined to not say anything.

His mum hugged him and his dad shook his hand enthusiastically. "Excellent job, son," he said with a proud smile.

They had to wait a few minutes, and Remus explained that the Ravenclaw dormitory was further than Gryffindor. His parents smiled, for he was young and had not yet realized that females took a long time to prepare. They sat down to wait for her, but Remus could hardly sit still. Other students and some parents came over to congratulate him and tell him how great it was.

Finally, Calyxa returned. Now dressed in very pretty simple lavender robes and with her long hair unplaited, she looked quite different. In one of his letters, their son has called her "very pretty" and they finally saw why. Her pale face was flushed very becomingly with excitement and a twinkle lit her eyes. The Lupins congratulated her and shook her hand and she beamed at them.

On the walk to Hogsmeade, the youngsters entertained them with excited stories of how hard they had worked, how they had got the idea, how they had bickered over the English translation of the song until they decided to leave it in the original Italian, how Professor Flitwick had permitted them to use his classroom to practice, how they had convinced another student to help them with the potion because they were both rubbish in that subject. The adults shared a glance once or twice. Oh, youthful exuberance! Oh, this precious girl who made their son happy!

Dinner was a lovely experience, Remus was gallant and animated and so obviously in love. He encouraged the girl to talk about herself. "Calyxa is going to write books for students," he told them proudly. "Not like the rubbish we have to read now. Really useful stuff."

"Hopefully useful," she amended, picking up his thought as though they shared it and she wanted to express her perception of it. "There are some things that the teachers and textbooks do not explain clearly. Some things I think they do not know, but they will not say that. They will not even discuss it."

"Perhaps the teachers are embarrassed to admit they don't know," suggested Mr. Lupin.

"Of course," she replied, "but Professor Flitwick always tells the truth. He tells us where something is merely theoretical and when something has actually been researched."

Her exquisite manners impressed them. Remus seemed to have adapted to her sphere, but they now saw what he had meant in his letters when he had said _her father is a prince, but she says she isn't a princess. Maybe not, but she_ is_ really._

She spoke very easily about her ancient religion; about the secrets of the earth, the moon, and the stars; about the goddesses that represented the aspects of the moon; about her parents' lives; and about the origins of her mother's people. "In Italian, the word for witch is _strega_," she told them. "In some places, the word _janarra_ was used in its place."

"Really?" asked Mr. Lupin. "Was that long ago?"

"Not so long ago," Calyxa told them. "We are also sometimes called Sea Witches because our origins are in coastal regions."

"What do the Janarra think of Remus?" asked Mrs. Lupin. "Your mother approved of him, but after all, he… well, he isn't Italian."

The girl looked at Remus then with an expression of such pure affection upon her features that Mrs. Lupin's heart lurched. "I cannot imagine that such things matter to those of my clan."

On the walk back to Hogwarts, they urged the young people to walk ahead. The youngsters did so, and Remus put his arm around the girl as they walked in the semi-darkness.

"Did you notice them holding hands under the table?"

Mr. Lupin chuckled. "Both blushing."

They walked a long way in silence, hearing the soft laughter from up ahead and the murmur of voices. "What do you think about Sirius?" she asked.

"I suppose he hasn't got a girlfriend of his own," he replied. "I don't think he fancies her; he was just playing a bit. It's always been his way."

"Mm hmm. I can't imagine those boys falling out over a girl, anyway. Though Remus did once say that Sirius got every girl just because he's the best-looking of the lot."

"But you saw the way they looked at each other! Sweet Merlin! It doesn't matter what Sirius, or anyone else, does. That girl is in love with Remus."

Mrs. Lupin nodded slowly, thinking. "Could her parents approve? I mean _really_ approve? Of him marrying her? The daughter of a prince?"

"I don't know. But with all that talk about the moon goddesses and everything within…" He shrugged. "It all seems…"

"Like it will work."

"Exactly."

They walked a ways in silence again. Ahead, they could just make out the figures of their much-loved son and his girlfriend sharing a quick, stolen kiss and they laughed softly together. "They must be good people to have raised such a daughter," she said in an emotional voice. "To like him of all the boys!"

"Do you think she knows? Or suspects?" It was the unspoken fear that they both shared.

"I don't know, but we're going to write to her parents during the summer," she declared, "and invite them to come and for her to visit with Remus. Prince or not, Italian or not."


	34. What Remus Saw, Part 2

Warning: adult themes, language

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**Chapter 33: What Remus Saw, Part 2**

Since that disastrous January evening when he had frightened Calyxa and made her cry, Remus had been trying not to get too carried away when he was with her. Now, when they were kissing, he kept a tight rein on his feelings and forced himself to stop when things started getting too intense. That, however, was not the most dramatic change that had occurred since Christmas.

Before, Remus had dreamed typical things about kissing Calyxa, about undressing her and taking her to his bed where he would close the curtains and make love with her in the semi-darkness. He was just seventeen and his sexual experience consisted of kissing girls and fumbling underneath their robes. Everything else he had to imagine, and he was not terribly imaginative. He usually just thought about being on top of her, being _inside_ her. That was enough for him to come, whether he was asleep or engaging in self-pleasure in the dark silence late at night.

Since seeing the memory, her memory of kissing Sirius, his dreams at night and his daydreams and fantasies had changed. Now, he often imagined Calyxa and Sirius together, kissing and touching each other. At first, Remus had expected to feel jealous or envious, but this was quite something else altogether. Imagining them, imagining _her_! How she sighed, how she squirmed a little, how she liked what they were doing… it aroused him tremendously.

She had also told him about snogging Snape down in the dungeons. It had bothered him a bit that she was just doing it to get the potion, but when he actually got to watch the memory, he didn't mind at all. He was too excited by the whole thing to mind.

Such things were best left for the dark of night, and during the day, he usually contented himself with holding her hand while they were talking together. One Sunday afternoon in April, they had intended stroll down to the lake, but the weather was too nasty. When he went to meet her, he said, "I think it's too wet to walk outside."

"Will you walk with me inside?" she asked very quietly.

The request was unusual enough, and coupled with the grave way she made it, he blinked at her, feeling unsettled. Such a thing boded ill, and he felt instinctively that she intended to break up with him. "Sure," he answered, his voice strained. "Anything you want."

"I would like to speak with you privately." She wasn't quite looking at him. It was almost as if she were afraid to look at him.

"Okay," he agreed, but a heavy feeling of dread slowed his footsteps. As they walked, he hunched his shoulders. What had he done? He didn't think she was interested in another boy. Maybe she was tired of him, bored with him. More probably, yesterday's fiasco had been the last straw.

There was no use in regret now, but as he led Calyxa to the Room of Requirement, where they'd be able to talk privately, he wondered if he could have done something differently. The horrible scene replayed in his mind when he and Calyxa had come upon Sirius and James torturing Snape. He recalled how Calyxa had stared at Sirius with pain and disbelief in her eyes and said, "You _gave your word_."

Sirius had tried to appear indifferent but had actually eyed her worriedly. James had told her, "You should have heard what the greasy git said! Said he was snogging you in the Potions classroom!"

Remus didn't blame her for being upset with them. Not really. Of course, Sirius should never have promised her to stop hexing people when he had known very well he'd never be able to keep that promise. Plus, she still hadn't forgiven James for putting the Silencing Charm on her in the library even though he had only done it because Sirius had wanted to keep her out of trouble with Madam Pince. On the other hand, she should have known better than to go around snogging Snape and expecting the sneaky bastard to keep his mouth shut about it when he thought she was Sirius's girlfriend!

Remus's musings were interrupted when Calyxa reached and slid her hand into his. He glanced at her in surprise and squeezed her hand a little. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"Whatever it is I've done."

She laughed a little. "Your guilty conscience?"

He looked down at her with a frown. They walked a ways in silence and were nearly at the Room of requirement before he spoke again. "Are you going to break up with me?" he finally asked.

She stopped walking. "Break up?" she repeated in astonishment. "No. Why? What _have_ you done?"

"Nothing, actually," he said, exhaling in relief. "I was thinking that you were so serious because you had bad news.'

"No, nothing like that," she assured him with a concerned frown.

He grinned and began leading her again. "I know a place where we can talk and no one will interrupt us."

"Not even Peeves?" she asked.

He chuckled at that. "I don't think so!"

He let go of her hand and had her wait for him while he paced three times, concentrating hard. _We need a place where we can sit down and talk. A private, comfortable place. A cozy place to sit and talk. _

When he led her inside, the rain beat steadily on a heavy casement window, and there was an overstuffed sofa drawn up to a crackling fire. "This'll be nice," he said, leading her over to the sofa and flopping down. It was the perfect degree of squishiness.

She smiled uncertainly as she settled beside him. Remus felt a little concerned that she had something difficult to say, but as long as she wasn't going to break up…

A terrible, icy bolt of fear shot through him. Had she found out what he was? Suddenly he was uncomfortable and on edge. She had said she didn't intend to break up, but was she going to confront him about his secret?

They remained in silence for a long time, so long that he was starting to think that she was waiting for him to prompt her. "Well," she began slowly, sounding nervous. "I think it will not surprise you to hear that I am a virgin."

Immediately on guard, he digested the sentence for a minute but could not discern any linguistic or philosophical trap. "No," he answered. It had been quite obvious, he thought. He hadn't expected anything else from her. "I'm one as well, and... well, I hope I haven't done anything that seems to be pressuring you. Because I haven't meant to."

"No, no." There was another pause as she searched for the right words and the courage to say them. "On the other hand," she said slowly, "there are so many feelings. Strong feelings."

"I know all about that," he said, completely lost as to where this was going. "I think everyone has that."

"It is very strong with me," she admitted with a tone of slight self-disgust. "I am Italian. I am Janarra. It's _very_ strong, you see."

"I think you'd be surprised at how strong it is with the rest of us," he said with a half-smile.

"Maybe," she sighed. Another long pause, and the baffled Remus waiting, wondering. "You are a very pretty boy," she said. "Very pretty. You have been polished by the abrasion of pain, and it has made you a jewel from the rough stone. And... and I trust you."

A frown creased his brow, and he straightened up a little. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? What he _hoped_ she was saying? It had sounded like a compliment. This girl, she spoke in verse, she spoke in metaphor. Blast her for her poetic Italian tongue! Plainer speaking was called for. "You can speak very straightforwardly with me."

She took a long, deep breath as she drew upon her courage. "Well... it is hard to ignore that we are either young men or women here, and that nature has given us a terrible and irresistible urge to know the other intimately."

A chuckle escaped him. _That_ was plain enough, but did she really want to know him? Intimately?

She continued. "The bald truth is that what I would like most, of all things, is to ask you to take off your robes, all of them, so I might look at you all over and touch you."

He raised his head to stare at her, but she was looking away from him, red-faced and seemingly uncomfortable.

"I will not ask it of you." She exhaled violently, and then she got up and began to pace with her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. "But I am Janarra, you see. Our clan is mad, passionate." She smiled a little. "I can concentrate on the studies most of the time, but it is hard when I am close to you because you... you have a scent that is very good to me. Do you remember when we were dancing? That slow dance? I thought I should die from the feeling, like madness."

Remember? Of course, he remembered. The feel of her against him, the soft fragrance of her flesh blended with the delicate perfume she used. The way her little hands had rubbed his shoulders. How his hands slipped over her waist and hips. The soft breaths against his neck and how she had nuzzled him. He still shivered to recall it.

What to say? "If you... if you..." He swallowed. She had stopped pacing and was looking at him now. How to say it? "You know I'd do anything you asked."

She knew exactly what he meant and blushed. "You would?" she murmured. "Shall I ask you? Do you... want to?"

He recalled his dad had told him that when it came to girls, he should always let her show him what she wanted, how far he could go. "Yeah, I want to," he said as evenly as he could. He climbed to his feet and stood facing her with his arms at his sides. He would do nothing to scare her this time. Nothing. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

"Okay," she said very quietly in a wavering voice. She came over to him and reached up to open the top button on his robes. As she did, he watched her hands in fascination. It was _really_ happening. She was _really_ taking off his robes. After she had unbuttoned the top three, she stopped and looked at him. "Will you... take this off?" She looked nervous and shy and hopeful.

He could not speak. Automatically, his fingers undid the buttons and he shrugged off the robes and cast them upon the floor. Underneath, he wore an ordinary Muggle shirt, belt, and trousers. All atremble with excitement, he wondered what she was going to do next. Not that it mattered. Whatever she did, he wanted her to do it.

On his shirt, she managed only two buttons before her hands pressed lightly against his chest, and he could feel their warmth through the thin fabric. A delicate smile touched her lips. "And this?"

Again, his fingers flew down the front of his shirt; he had to untuck it and ended up yanking it out violently and tossing it on the sofa. Naked from the waist up, he stood there, knowing he was no ideal of male attractiveness, especially not compared to some of the other boys, athletes like Sirius and James. He was pale and skinny, and his ribs stuck out, but the way Calyxa was looking at him made him feel handsome.

She touched his chest lightly with both hands, and he shivered. Trailing the fingertips of one hand over his chest and arm, she walked around in back of him and placed her hands on his shoulders. He felt her place a kiss between his shoulder blades, and then her arms slipped around his waist to hug him from behind.

_Oh gods and goddesses... _this was good. He put his hands on her arms. "Calyxa," he murmured. What should he do? Did she want him to hug her? Was she going to take off her robes as well and let _him_ look at _her_? He wasn't even going to think about her letting him _touch_ her.

Her arms loosened and released him, and she moved around front. Her fingertips brushed over the little patch of hair on his chest, and he could see her looking at him with a smile. She seemed to like what she saw, which both surprised him, for he was no prize, and filled him with a heady sense of excitement.

"I would like you to touch me," she told him in a near whisper.

A trembling thrill electrified him. "Anything you want," he said in a husky voice he hardly recognized as his own. He recalled, however, how he had forgotten himself, how he had lost control and grabbed her. He had frightened her so badly that she had shoved him away and burst into tears. "But show me what to do," he pleaded. "I'm too strong. Too rough. I don't want to hurt you or scare you."

She took both of his hands and drew them up to the neckline of her robes. Instead of ordinary buttons, they had fancy clasps on them. "Will you open this?"

At that moment, he wanted to do nothing else; however, his fingers felt thick and clumsy, and he had a lot of trouble with the top one. He awkwardly worked on it and finally succeeded in opening it. Underneath, he could see her delicate collarbone exposed, and she wore a fine, silver chain around her neck with a diamond pendant in the shape of the waxing gibbous moon. It was the exact aspect of the current moon.

"Is that silver?" he asked.

"This?" She fingered the pendant. "It is… _platino_. I don't know the word in English."

"Platinum," he said and then raised his eyes to look at her, wondering how far she meant to take this. He'd snogged girls who let him get his hands under their robes, but none of them had ever taken off their robes for him. And no girl had ever wanted him to take off _his_ robes!

She looked nervous, and her pulse beat wildly in her throat, but she easily unfastened the rest of the clasps. Underneath, she wore some kind of soft, silken slip of dark green through which he could see that her nipples had tightened into little buttons. He couldn't help slipping his hands under her robes and resting them on her waist with his thumbs making little circles on her stomach. The delicate silk felt glorious, and he wanted to slide his hands up so he could touch her breasts, but he knew that might be going a little too fast for her, so he waited.

Her eyes were dark, but he wasn't sure whether she was afraid or aroused. He imagined his own eyes looked rather the same. Calyxa stopped short of taking off her robes; instead, she reached up and drew his head down to kiss him. His hands moved around to her back, and he felt the warm, smooth silk and the hard little nipples pressing against his bare skin. Slowly, he coaxed her mouth open and touched her tongue with his. Shudders ran down to his very toes – her fingers trailed around his middle inside the waistband of his trousers…

He broke off the kiss and took hold of her shoulders. "Wait, wait." He looked into her eyes because he couldn't trust himself to look anywhere else.

She blinked at him.

He could not go on like this in good conscience unless she knew the truth. "If we're going to do what I think we're about to do, there's something I've got to say first."

"I would like to hear it," she replied, continuing to look at him with softness and affection in her eyes.

This was going to be hard! Merlin! What did he have to be so blasted gentlemanly? He let go of her shoulders. "This isn't just a game to me, you know. As far as I'm concerned, this is for keeps."

"And for me," she agreed quite soberly.

Did she really understand what he was saying? By the expression on her face and the soft light of affection in her eyes, he thought she did. Remus knew that his life had reached a crossroads and that whatever happened now would determine his fate. Although he knew she would not reveal his secret even if she never spoke to him again, he feared losing her, for he would either leave this room with a fiancée or an ex-girlfriend.

He turned and leaned down to grab his shirt. "Sit down for a minute," he instructed as he pulled it on. "There's something I have to tell you. After that, I'll do anything you want. If you still want me to."

She looked at him oddly, as if she wasn't sure she understood him, but then she went and sat down upon the sofa by the fire.

As he watched her, Remus smiled a little but with deep sadness. "Well." He turned and paced away, running his fingers through his hair. "It's only right that you know the truth." Turning back, he studied her face, her confused expression, the look of affection her eyes still held. "I find I'm a coward," he said with a forced laugh. "You deserve to know, but I'm afraid that it'll change things, that you won't be able to look at me the same way."

Surprised, she blinked and knew not how to reply. "Remus," she murmured after a moment, "I know you too well for that."

Again, the melancholy smile appeared on his face. He took his long last look, studying every line and shadow, as if he would never see her again, before turning away. He knew that once she knew the truth, he would never see her look at him with that lovely, warm affection again.

"When I was a little boy," he began, "I had the great misfortune to encounter a terrible beast which bit me. I'm lucky to be alive, really, and I tell myself so every day!" He forced another laugh. "And now, I still suffer the effects. You've seen how unwell the full moon makes me."

When he stopped speaking, quiet filled the room. Only the pelting rain and softly crackling fire made any noise. It seemed as if Calyxa were holding her breath. He knew he was. Making himself inhale, he steeled himself, prepared himself for rejection, however gentle or kind it might be.

"Have you any pain?" she murmured.

Surprised, he turned to look at her. She sat with her spine rigid, her face pale and tense, her lovely dark eyes wide and full of desperate concern as she stared at him.

It was an unexpected reaction which flummoxed him. That look of concern nearly unmanned him. Having hardened his heart in preparation for her look of fear, pity, or disgust, this reaction surprised him and left him feeling both flustered and vulnerable. "Yeah," he admitted.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay," he assured her. "I'm used to it." Then he heaved a huge sigh. "I just didn't think it would be fair for you to… do anything with me without knowing. Without knowing what I was."

"Did you think it would change the way that I feel?" she asked in surprise.

"Well, I didn't imagine any girl would want to… be with… a monster." He forced out the last word.

"_Mio caro_." She rose and took a step towards him and then stopped. She was looking at him with that queer, unfocused stare that often pierced him. "I have seen that you suffer, but I did not know the course. Pardon, I mean the _cause_." She came closer, and now she was looking into his eyes. "It is what makes you beautiful."

"Beautiful?" he repeated slowly. Had anyone else said such a thing at that moment, he would have immediately thought they were making an extremely cruel joke; however, he knew her and imagined that it was a mistake with her English.

"You are the most beautiful man that I have ever met," she informed him.

He stared at her. She _meant_ it.

"You must realize that this is what makes you what you are," she continued.

"What do you mean?" He was just starting to realize that she was not going to break up with him over this, and the relief was so powerful that it was almost painful.

She smiled at him with that familiar look he had thought to never see again. "Without it, you would be a different person."

That was for certain! "Yeah, I know."

"Remus," she chided softly with a delightful smile. "If you were different, I would not be here with you."

"You'd be here with another fellow," he replied with a sharp stab of excitement as he recalled the memories she had shown him of her kissing other boys.

"No!" she laughed. "I would be sitting alone somewhere. Perhaps reading." She looked at him again with an exquisite smile. "I would not be in love with you."

The world went dim for a moment as he processed what she meant, for nothing in his life had prepared him for this moment. He clasped her in his arms and kissed her hair and temple, and she hugged him back. Somehow, he settled down on the sofa with her and held her close beside him, stroking her hair. She was kissing his neck and petting his chest where his shirt was opened.

"So," he said. "Next summer?"

She laughed. "Are you trying to ask me something?"

He heaved a huge sigh as he buried his fingers in her hair. "You know I won't be able to work at a regular job like everyone else. It's not going to be an easy life."

Instead of replying, Calyxa sat up and slipped her robes off her shoulders and arms. Remus didn't move. He _couldn't_ move just then. She sat looking at him, her eyes wide and her breaths coming fast.

He finally straightened up and couldn't help letting his eyes move over her. He had a strong urge to get his hands on her that he fought against. For Merlin's sake, he had to be _gentle_ when he touched her! "Show me what you want me to do," he said in a funny, hoarse voice.

She took hold of his hand and drew it to her. Remus stopped breathing altogether as she pressed his palm against the silk-covered warmth of her breast.

At that extraordinarily inopportune moment, the door was flung open and Sirius barged in. "Moony!" Then he stopped and stared at them.

Remus went for his wand. "What is _wrong_ with you?" he snapped, ready to _hurt_ Sirius, but Calyxa took hold of his arm. She was staring at Sirius.

"No," she said. "Something is wrong."

"Sorry." Sirius turned around to face the wall in a rather clumsy attempt to give them their privacy. "Calyxa has to come now. Everyone's looking for her. McGonagall seems to think I know where she is. Something big's going on."

"Bloody marvelous timing," Remus muttered. Calyxa was already slipping her arms back into her robes.

"I'm not joking," Sirius insisted. "You _know_ I wouldn't be here interrupting you if it wasn't important. An emergency."

"Why are they looking for _me_?" asked Calyxa rather breathlessly as she fastened the front of her robes. Remus got up to retrieve his own robes.

"I don't know, but Dumbledore's looking grim, so it can't be good." He was still standing with his back to them. "You're not… _expecting_, are you?"

"_You shut your mouth_," Remus snarled. He still had his wand in his hand, and had Sirius been facing him, he would have hit him with something painful, but he would not attack someone's back.

"No, please," Calyxa begged. She came to Remus and looked up at him with troubled eyes. "You would have done the exact same thing if the situation was reversed."

Not that he would have ever asked Sirius and his girlfriend such a thing, but Remus understood what she meant and lowered his wand.

She did not look away from Remus. "Sirius, where am I to go?"

"I'm not sure. Try Dumbledore's office. I'm sure they'll find you."

"Very well." Her eyes searched Remus's. "Can we speak a bit later?"

"Yeah, sure," he told her as he pulled his robes on over his unbuttoned his shirt. "I'll meet you at dinner."

She kissed him very tenderly. "I shall see you then." And then she slipped past Sirius and out the door.

Only then did Sirius turn around. "Moony, you know I wouldn't have come in here if it wasn't an emergency."

"You bloody arsehole," Remus swore.

Sirius looked shocked. "You think I came in here to _spy_ on you?"

"No." Remus took a deep breath to control his anger and then buttoned up his shirt. "Just go find your own bloody girlfriend."

He strode out of the Room of Requirement and down the hall. Sirius did not come after him.

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Thanks go to Clara Minutes and Phoenix for beta-reading, and to the fabulous Finrod the Faithful for the "guy" point of view. 


	35. What Marin Venier Saw

Warning: implied character death

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**Chapter 34: What Marin Venier Saw**

As Marin Venier waited in the headmaster's office for Professor McGonagall to locate his sister, he told Professor Dumbledore the details of his mother's illness. Seventeen years ago, conceiving and delivering Calyxa had nearly killed Peziza because of her advanced age; as a result, her health had never recovered, and Calyxa has always been a delicate, sickly child. But the contessa had her heir and was satisfied with the sacrifice. Now, at the end, she waited serenely to go to Jana. The only regret was that Calyxa, who would not turn sixteen for a few more weeks, would bear a heavy burden as such a young contessa.

There were no words of solace or of comfort that the old wizard could offer; he did not try. The expression on his kind, grave face was enough for Marin, who had been preparing for months for his mother's passing.

When Calyxa finally hurried, breathless and flushed, into the office followed by the severe old witch, Marin stood up and turned to face her. By the emotions that she was broadcasting with no attempt at all to control them, he could tell that she had come straight from the arms of the English fellow who had attended the Solstice Celebration with them. Both Mother and Father had agreed to allow Calyxa to marry the young man if she wished, which seemed appropriate to Marin. Although Mother had been a notorious wanton in the days of her youth, Calyxa did not seem destined to take after her in that.

"Marin!" cried Calyxa, rushing to him and seizing both his hands. She sensed his dark feelings immediately. "What is it?"

At that moment, he did one of the most difficult things he had ever had to do in his life: he went down on one knee, grasped the bottom of her robes, and kissed the hem. It was the ancient, traditional greeting of the Janarra for their contessa, and he had only ever performed it for Mother on formal occasions.

There was no mistaking what it meant. Calyxa's face lost all its color, and she swayed on her feet. She had to sit down on the floor. "Marin," she whispered through numb lips.

"I'm sorry." He sat on the floor beside her and put his arm around her. He was fourteen years older than Calyxa and often had almost paternal feelings towards her. The poor thing. Perhaps it would not have come as such a terrible shock if she had known that Mother was ill, but their parents would not allow anyone to tell the girl until the last possible minute.

Calyxa grasped the front of his robes and looked up at him with of panic in her eyes. "It's Mamma," she said in a weak voice. It was not a question.

"I am sent to bring you home," he told her very gently. "She'd like to see you once more while she still may."

"What is it? Is she ill?" Calyxa demanded, trembling.

Gravely, he nodded. "There isn't much time."

"So quickly?" she whispered. "Is there no hope?"

"She's been ill for a long time," he explained. "It's grown much worse in the past few days, and she hasn't got long left."

She shook her head. "Why… why didn't I know? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"She wouldn't allow it. She wanted you to enjoy these days without such heavy worries."

Calyxa shook her head again but didn't speak. Her face was a terrible grayish hue, and Marin was afraid she might faint.

"Sir," said Marin to the headmaster in English. "Have you a glass or a goblet?"

"Of course." The old wizard took an empty water goblet and handed it to Marin, who drew out a small, metal flask from within his robes. He poured some strong brandy into the goblet, several mouthfuls, and handed it to Calyxa. "Here. Drink this."

She did so, holding the goblet with two hands and taking several sips. Then she looked up, and Marin helped her to her feet. She managed to walk to an armchair by the desk and sank down, clutching the goblet.

"You are Countess of Janarra," he told her gently, but his actions had said the same thing only minutes before. "You must come and oversee things, and you must ease Mamma before her journey to Jana."

She nodded slowly, but there were no tears, not yet. It was all still too great a shock. Marin glanced at Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. The whole conversation had been in Italian, but Marin suspected that the two professors needed no translation to understand what had occurred.

"Professor Dumbledore has already sent one of the house-elves to pack your things," he told her. The poor girl nodded dumbly, and then Marin tipped the rest of the flask into the goblet that she still held. "Perhaps you can send for the young man," Marin asked the teachers in English. "I cannot recall his name. Our parents met him during the winter holiday."

The old wizard and witch looked at him in surprise. "Do you mean her boyfriend?" asked Professor McGonagall. "Sirius Black?"

"If you wouldn't mind, I think it would be best to send for him. Perhaps he may give her some comfort that I can't."

"No," called Calyxa in a voice that caught in her throat. "Send for Remus Lupin."

* * *

Young Lupin stayed with Marin in the Ravenclaw common room while Calyxa changed into her formal robes and said goodbye to the girls in her dormitory room. The boy was only sixteen or seventeen, and he looked shocked himself, but being with him was certainly a soothing balm for poor Calyxa. Mother had said as much, and now Marin understood. The pain he had endured in his short life had transformed him as an oyster formed a pearl to alleviate the agony of a sharp grain of sand.

In the stiff grey brocade robes of the Janarra, Calyxa looked very formal and elegant but also pitiably young and wounded. Marin and Lupin shared a look. The girl's mother was dying: her world would never be the same again.

In order to bid farewell to those who had become her friends, Calyxa insisted on going down to the Great Hall where the other students had gone to dinner. Lupin waited outside the Hall and watched while Marin accompanied her.

Calyxa spoke with several students and professors. Some she embraced, some she kissed upon both cheeks. A tall, blonde boy who spoke good Italian swept her up off the floor in an enthusiastic hug. It made Calyxa smile a little, so it made Marin smile as well.

To one dark-haired boy, she handed a flat whetstone and a small notebook. "Perhaps you will use this and think kindly of me," she told him in a very quiet voice. "And this is the English translation of one chapter of the old Etruscan book I once told you of. It may aid you."

She stood on her toes to kiss his cheeks, but the boy merely stood still and did not return the courtesy, which saddened Marin. The fool would not see her again, perhaps not ever, and he could at least offer some slight sign of friendship when she was in such need of comfort.

When she had said her farewells, she left the Great Hall and went to Lupin, who took her hand. "I did not see Sirius," she told him. "You must tell him that I am sorry for any unpleasantness that has recently occurred. All is forgotten."

"I will," the boy agreed, and they began to walk for the entrance doors, for Professor Dumbledore was waiting outside.

"Hold on!" shouted a man's voice, and they all turned around. A tall young man was hurrying towards them. He stopped a few feet away and looked at Lupin, who let go of Calyxa's hand with a sigh and stepped back.

_Curious_, thought Marin. The tall boy had seemed almost reluctant to address Calyxa without Lupin's permission.

"I'm really sorry," the tall boy said in a slightly breathless voice as he came over to Calyxa.

"Thank you," she said with a tremulous smile.

The boy studied her for a moment. "I'm sorry for losing my temper and getting you kicked out of the library," he went on. "I know you only told Madam Pomfrey because you wanted to help me. I was really stupid."

Marin couldn't understand what his sister said, but she embraced the tall boy very firmly, and he held on to her for several long seconds.

"Your mum is probably the finest witch I ever met," he told her. "Tell her I said thank you again."

"I shall," she sniffled and reached up to kiss him on both cheeks. "The next time we meet, I shall expect you to have such fine manners as this all the time."

He smiled a little but very sadly and nodded, reaching to run his thumb under her eye. "Anything you want, princess."

When Calyxa turned to Marin and Lupin, there were tears running down her face. As they walked towards the doors, Lupin gave Calyxa a handkerchief and said something too low for Marin to hear, and she wiped her tears before taking an immense, calming breath. She took Lupin's hand again as they headed outside.

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were waiting to say their goodbyes to the new contessa, so Marin and Lupin stood back. "It won't be so long till you see each other again," said Marin in what he hoped was a warm and brotherly tone. "It will be hard for her to adjust, but it'll all turn out as the Goddess wills it in the end."

"I'm sure," the boy said in a quiet voice.

When Calyxa turned to Lupin slowly, holding herself very erect in her formal robes, Marin was startled, for never in his life had he seen his sister look at a man in such a way. Now, he stepped back to allow them to speak together.

"I must now bid you farewell," she nearly whispered.

Lupin nodded without speaking.

"You are the best friend that I have ever had," she told him in a wavering voice and some tears spilled onto her cheeks.

He nodded again, but it was obvious that he could not speak without weeping.

Their eyes held, and she smiled a little, very sweetly and sadly, and then they were kissing each other. Wanting to give them as much privacy as possible, Marin turned away.

As he did, he heard Professor McGonagall sigh and remark very quietly to Dumbledore, "Someday, that girl is going to discover a cure for lycanthropy."


	36. The Dream and the Letter

Warning: non-consensual se**x **

**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 35: The Dream and the Letter**

The dream came to him. Again the dream. Remus turned on his side, sighing, and surrendered again to sleep, smiling and sinking into the dream. When the dream came to him was his favorite time of night, especially since Calyxa's return to Venice had ripped a jagged hole in his life.

_It was sunny down by the lake and, like a picnic, they were stretched out on a blanket in the grass. Oddly enough, there was no one around. Not that he cared. Calyxa lay on her back smiling at him, her velvet eyes lovely and bright with that intoxicating look of affection as he touched the side of her face, his fingertips stroking gently. Propped up on one elbow, he gazed down at her, wondering if he dared try and kiss her._

"_Remus," she murmured, as her hands slid up to either side of his face and her fingers threaded into his hair._

_He shivered at her touch, which was all the encouragement he needed. He leaned over and lowered his head to kiss her. She sighed in pleasure and continued to caress his hair and his neck. Her soft mouth was nibbling him, she was tasting his lips and there was no rush or urgency in her movements. Calyxa was enjoying him, and he wasn't about to do anything to interfere with that._

_On the other hand, though it was lovely, it was also very arousing, and he wondered, somewhat dimly, if he should shift away from her, so she would not notice. He didn't want her to imagine that he was attempting to pressure her into anything more._

_Then he felt her hands unfastening the front of his robes and he broke off the kiss. "No – don't do that," he said in a thick voice. He had done an admirable job of keeping hold of his feelings, and he wasn't going to lose control now._

"_I can't help it," she whispered, smiling mischievously. "I want to touch you."_

_He nearly groaned at her words and the expression on her face. He wanted her to! Sweet Merlin! He could hardly bear to stop her, but he could not let her, or he might lose control. Not here, not now. "Here." He drew both of her arms up over her head and gently held her wrists in one of his hands. "That's better."_

_She wiggled a little, flushed and smiling, testing how far she could move her arms and pressing their bodies together. "I think I like this," she whispered, her eyes glittering._

_She was far too soft and firm and curvy. Her breasts pressed against him and her hips and thighs. With an audible groan, he lowered his head to kiss her again and shifted so that he was lying half on top of her. She wiggled again, laughing against his lips, and he was growing too hard – she had to be able to feel it!_

_His free hand moved down her side over her waist and hip and slid up again to curve around one of her breasts._

"_Remus… please…" she breathed, arching her back to press her breast more firmly into his hand. "Yes."_

_Her scent filled his brain, and he recognized it instinctively. She was aroused too. He scented his female's arousal, and darkness shrouded his mind as the wolf took over._

_Bearing down on her, forcing his tongue into her mouth, he growled deep in his throat. He began to rock back and forth, humping against her, relishing her softness even through all the layers of their clothes. Somehow in the dream, his inexperience interfered, and he could not imagine taking them off. Desperately, he ground his hips down against her. _Mine_, the wolf thought. _M_y_ female. My mate_. There was no time to do anything more._

_His mate was squirming and wiggling, pushing against him, driving him mad... _

_Then she had the scent of fear, and she was lying completely still… his female, his mate… Rubbing against her, he reached a climax. Remus had only ever used his hand before, and this was very, very different. He shuddered as he came, still enveloped in the fog of her scent and taste. It was a powerful reaction, much more intense than he was used to from his usual night-time self-pleasure._

_Finally, he lay spent on top of her and her arms pulled free. "Remus," she whispered in a tremulous voice, pushing against him. "You are hurting me."_

_Shocked, horrified, he recoiled. She was crying, tears streaked her face, the skin around her mouth was red, and her lip was bleeding. Her arms wrapped around her middle – her delicate white wrists were covered with red finger marks that would no doubt turn to bruises._

_What had he done?_

_Filled with self-disgust and revulsion, he sat up. Calyxa turned away, sobbing._

"_What have I done?"_

In the dark of night, he sat up, breathing hard as the wet spot on his pajamas grew cold. Erotic dreams often ended this way for him, but never before had violence been part of them. Filled with self-loathing, he reached for his wand and used a cleaning spell before flopping down and burying his face in his pillow.

How could he even _dream_ such a thing? Poor Calyxa! Even though she loved him, even though she wanted to make love with him… he was going to _hurt_ her. The wolf would take over and hurt her. He would forget, the wolf would get control and would… force her, _rape_ her…

Sickened, he leapt up and dashed out of the dormitory, reaching the toilet just in time. As he vomited the contents of his stomach, tears leaked from his tightly closed eyes. He could not risk such a thing. He could never let himself be alone with her. He could never let himself kiss her or touch her that way again. No, he could never love any girl. He was far too dangerous. He would have to remain alone forever.

* * *

If Calyxa had still been at Hogwarts, Remus knew he would never have been able look at her and convince her that he wanted to break up. Since she had gone back to Venice, he would be able to do it with a letter. Although he knew it was the coward's way to break up, it was the only way he could do it and have it work. 

His logic was simple. He had to protect her from the violent and lustful side of himself. The only way he could do that was to break up, to not see her anymore. And the only way to do that was to hurt her. It had to be done. Hurt her once and let her find someone else. Let her find a nice wizard, someone who was whole and healthy. Someone who would not force himself on her violently.

The letter, however, proved to be much harder to write than he had originally thought. He had never imagined it would be easy, but the pain cut through him deep down into his soul as he composed the words that would hurt her so badly that she wouldn't want to see him again.

He felt real physical pain slicing his insides as he wrote the words: _don't really feel the same way_. He was actually crying when he got to _new girlfriend_. The bitterness increased and he became nauseated, but still he wrote. _Good thing we didn't… first time will be better with a wizard who loves you as much as you love him... know it's awful of me to break up when you're in mourning… wish we could still be friends… probably better off… never forget you…_

He read it back to himself only once. It was a horrible letter and by far the cruelest thing he had ever done. However, it was the only way to be sure that she'd be safe. He was well aware that she would probably never forgive him, but he had no choice. It was better to hurt her this way. She'd soon find a wizard who deserved her and make her happy for the rest of her life. There was no other way. He would never be able to go on living if he laid a hand on her in violence. And this would hurt her less than being savaged by a trusted lover.

It was something, at least, that he had spared her that.

* * *

Notes:  
This ends the flashback, and the next chapter will finds us back in 1994.

For anyone reading, I'll be taking a break for a few weeks, so the story will be on hiatus for a while.

Please take the time during my break to leave some comments! I'd appreciate any thoughts or comments that you have, and since the ratio of hits-to-reviews is so immense, I know that _a lot_ of people are reading but not saying anything!

Acknowledgements:  
Thanks to Clara Minutes for beta-reading and to Finrod the Faithful for the guy-point-of-view.


	37. Home

**Chapter 36: Home**

_June 1994_

By the time he had helped Calyxa and Signora Chalaza to transfer Amanita and all the luggage to the house, Remus felt exhausted. Even though he had slept leaning against Calyxa through the journey, just Apparating the short distance drained him of most of his energy.

While he was trying valiantly to stack the trunks neatly in the entry hall, Calyxa spoke in Italian to Signora Chalaza, who took the little girl off into another room.

"Thank you," said Calyxa, coming up behind him. "I think you can leave it as it is now."

He dawdled a minute before turning to her, trying to focus on what he was going to say. All he wanted was to leave as quickly as he could manage. After that, he could decide where to go.

His suitcase, looking more battered and worse-for-wear than ever among the smart trunks and bags of the Janarra women, levitated beside Calyxa along with his Grindylow tank. The lady was looking at him with a smile and warmth in her eyes that had always been irresistible to him.

"Come with me," she said, turning to lead him out of the entry hall. His things followed, bobbing along in midair, as she brought him into the house and up the stairs. As he followed, his befuddled mind could not comprehend where she was taking him. Up two flights, they went to the light and airy attic, which consisted of a richly furnished bedroom and bathroom decorated in shades of brown and dark green. Never had he seen such an elegant, comfortable room, but he knew at once it was not her room. Calyxa didn't dwell here. It was a guest room.

"Protesting is useless," she informed him, "for I know what you plan to say. All I have to say in response is that if the situation were reversed, you would do exactly what I am doing."

He frowned at her as she directed his suitcase and tank into the room and up onto a low table under the windows. He couldn't make any sense of this.

"I shall send Gocciolina, our house-elf, up with dinner for you." She was smiling and looking at him with sweet affection that squeezed his heart until it ached. "No one will disturb you here, and you may rest as long as you like. You may stay as long as you like. I would prefer that you stay a long time, but I know you may not agree!"

Stupidly, dumbly, he continued to stand there and frown at her. Somehow, he had to get his exhausted mind around what she was saying. "Forgive me," he managed. "I can't quite follow."

"You will stay here until you are rested and recovered." She took a few steps over towards the bed. "If you need anything, this golden bell will summon Gocciolina." She gestured at a small bell on the nightstand. "Otherwise, no one will disturb you, not I, not Amanita. No one."

He finally grasped her meaning. She wanted him to stay here with her, in her house, where she lived with her daughter. Prince Borodin's child. "I can't," he began, but she shook her head.

"You have no choice." She came closer. "If I had just resigned my position and was ill, you would certainly offer me a place to rest." As she reached to place her hands on his shoulders, his hands came up automatically to rest on her waist, and he let her draw his head down to her. At that moment, he would have let her do anything she wanted to him. As it happened, she merely kissed him softly upon the mouth before turning to go.

"Calyxa," he called, not knowing what he was going to say. That precious little kiss had both strengthened and weakened him.

She turned back. "There is nothing to be said. You eat and rest." For a second or two, she studied him with a little thoughtful frown. "Remus," she murmured, "anything you have to say will wait until tomorrow. Sleep well."

The door closed behind her with a quiet click. Remus stood there for about half a minute and then sat down upon the bed. Did he dare? He knew that he should go far away as soon as possible, or the irresistible little witch would install him here like a kept man. Not that he was too proud. As long as she would be faithful, he'd stay here under any terms she named. But if she would not give up other wizards… he could not become a simple plaything for her. He'd rather starve and eat refuse from rubbish bins than submit to that.

A pop of Apparition startled him, and he found an unusually small house-elf standing before him with a carved, wooden tea tray. Soft peach colored fabric was draped over her, like a toga. "Here is supper for Professor Lupin," she said in a high, accented voice as she levitated the tray onto the bureau.

Already he could smell the rich aromas of the food, and he recognized beef with gravy. Along with that were vegetables, bread, half a bottle of red wine, and a bottle of sparkling water. The house-elf snapped, and an armchair moved from the other side of the room to the bureau.

"Thank you," he said, and his stomach rumbled. After the kiss, he had forgotten how hungry he was.

"Now, Countess says Professor must eat and sleep," said Gocciolina. "No one can come here unless Professor rings the bell. Countess says sleep first and have a bath tomorrow."

A grin appeared on Remus's haggard face. The thought of a hot bath was heavenly, but what he really needed was a long, undisturbed rest.

"Does Professor want Gocciolina to unpack for him?"

"No," he replied as he went over to the bureau and his dinner. "You should help the contessa."

"Yes, and Professor will please ring if he needs Gocciolina."

"I will," he promised, sitting and taking up the silverware as the house-elf Disapparated.

He ate every morsel, mopped up the juices with the bread, and drank a glass and a half of wine. Full and a little drunk, he flicked his wand to draw the drapes over the sunlit windows, stripped off his robes, and climbed into bed. No thoughts or worries troubled him as he slipped easily into the unknowing.

* * *

Remus woke in the blackness of night. Although he did not feel vague or disoriented, something was gnawing on his insides. He climbed out of bed and went over to the windows. When he opened the drapes, the brilliant moonlight blinded him. Of course, the full moon had been the previous day. The day when he regained Sirius. He smiled at the thought of his good friend, but he wondered why the waning moon was affecting him so strongly. It didn't usually. 

In the garden below, he saw a pale figure walking, and he recognized Calyxa instantly even though she was walking in the shadow of the garden wall. Then she came into the brilliant moonlight and lifted her arms slowly. In the pale light, dressed in white robes, she appeared to be made of marble.

Remus stared, wishing to leap down to her. He wanted to hold her, to embrace and worship her with his body and with words like a prayer formed by his lips. Even as he watched, though, he saw the marble sheen of her flesh alter into flame. Although she was still Calyxa, she was also a creature of power and light. And then she spoke his name.

He could not hear her, of course, two floors above: he _felt_ her speaking his name and sending the flames into him. Only they weren't flames, they were moonbeams, and they soothed him. The stiffness in his joints evaporated, and a deep, calm sense of peace filled him.

All at once, he felt heavy and sleepy. Even the goddess outside could not keep him awake; he stumbled to the bed, crawled under the covers, and plunged headlong back into slumber.

* * *

Remus woke in the late morning and enjoyed a filling brunch brought by Gocciolina. The tiny house-elf also brought his laundered and pressed robes and prepared a bath for him. _I could get used to this_, Remus thought as he relaxed in a tub full of orange-scented water and postponed shaving as long as possible. The bath water remained steadily hot and did not grow cool no matter how long he stayed. 

Eventually, he emerged, rosy and shriveled, and set himself to the task of shaving off three days worth of coarse beard. He knew that Calyxa and the others would have finished their lunch by now, and he wanted to appear to his best advantage when he went downstairs. Because he felt so much better and his robes looked remarkably well after Gocciolina's care, he looked forward to seeing them.

He wanted to talk with Calyxa about what had occurred, about what Sirius had said, and, most of all, about their unfortunate disagreement. He was ready to claim all responsibility and admit his grievous fault, after which, he was sure, she would look at him with that deep warmth in her eyes and perhaps even kiss him as sweetly as she had yesterday.

It was after two o'clock when he went downstairs. The house-elf told him that the ladies were in the garden. There, he found Calyxa and Amanita asleep in a cloth hammock tied between two great elms. Signora Chalaza dozed nearby on a chaise; however, it was the pretty, young contessa and her child who commanded his attention.

The little girl was nestled against her mother's breast, and Calyxa slept with her body curled protectively against Amanita. Remus wished he could slide in next to them and hold them both against him. In truth, he recalled quite vividly the night Sirius had gained entry to the Gryffindor dormitory and how he had lain holding Calyxa back against his chest with a possessive arm.

He made himself turn away from the shady area of the garden and go back into the house. There, he wrote a note for Calyxa before Disapparating to the alleys of Wizarding London where he spent a luckless afternoon looking for a job.

Atop a rubbish bin, he found a discarded Daily Prophet with the blaring headline, _Hogwarts Teacher Exposed as Werewolf_. Snatching it up and quickly scanning the story, he was hugely relieved to see that there was no photograph. Still, he was really out of luck this time and would probably have to find a job with Muggles, at least for the time being. He was no stranger to menial positions and physical labor, for he had never been able to afford being proud. On the other hand, if he stayed with Calyxa and took meals there, he would have a base from which to find work.

From Diagon Alley, he Apparated to the house where he had grown up, his parents' house. He had lived here alone much of the time since they had passed away, but he didn't always have the time, energy, or resources to take care of a whole house, so some things had fallen into disrepair. He was happy to discover that the problems were all minor and that the house could be easily made habitable.

When he finally returned to Calyxa's, he found only Signora Chalaza waiting for him. "Good evening, Professor," she said with a smile. "The countess had a dinner engagement and begs you to forgive her absence. Gocciolina has some supper for you."

He couldn't help smiling in return, for the old, Italian witch reminded him somewhat of the late Peziza di Janarra. "Thank you, Signora," he said. "Has Amanita gone to bed?"

"Certainly. The countess rarely goes out before she has put the child to bed."

That statement wasn't surprising. Remus thanked her again and went to have his supper. After a delicious meal and two glasses of wine, he was feeling content and sleepy, which disappointed him because he had planned on waiting up for Calyxa. The busy day and heavy meal took their toll, though, and he found it impossible to stay up.

Morning came soon enough, but he slept luxuriously late. Knowing that he wasn't on any kind of time schedule, he bathed leisurely, shaved, and dressed in freshly pressed robes. It was a lovely thing to be waited on by a house-elf!

It was late morning when he went downstairs, and Gocciolina told him that Calyxa was working in the study while Signora Chalaza had taken Amanita for a walk. _The Daily Prophet_ had been set on the kitchen table, so he began to look through it as he tucked into his hearty breakfast. He almost skipped the salacious gossip pages, but he caught sight of Calyxa's photograph and stopped to read the blurb that accompanied it.

_**Kissed and Made Up?**  
The wicked Countess di Janarra returned to London with her usual panache and was seen leaving ultra-exclusive Seguin with her former paramour, racing broom mogul Elias Peschel. A rumored nasty breakup nearly a year ago seems to have been forgotten by the cozy pair. _

The photograph showed the wizard in profile, a slim man with golden blonde hair. Calyxa, dressed in dramatically low-cut evening robes, stood laughing with her eyes fixed on her companion and a look of warm affection on her face.

Remus felt strangely numb, but there was a heavy feeling deep in his stomach. Was Elias Peschel the wizard whose threadbare dressing gown Calyxa had been wearing? From the outside, it didn't make sense that a wealthy wizard would own such a thing, not to mention letting his girlfriend take it home. On the other hand, there were always private little understandings between lovers, and the ratty, old dressing gown could have been one of those things.

As he stared down at Calyxa's sweet, adoring expression in the photograph, Remus felt a churning wave of nausea. The dream was truly over this time. He could not remain here and watch as she… He closed his eyes, unable to even think about it. Had he really hoped, just yesterday, that she would give him a promise of faithfulness? Well, he had lied and pushed her away all those years ago. This was only what he deserved.

It was too late to salvage much of his fractured heart, but he had to leave before she added him to her male harem. Worst of all, he actually considered it, for the idea was not without its appeal to one like himself with strong voyeuristic tendencies. However, he simply could not bear her truly loving another man. Meeting her ex-husband had been bad enough.

Leaving the remnants of his breakfast, he folded the paper neatly and went up to the guest room where he methodically packed his things. He was no coward, though, and would not run away like a thief in the night: after setting down his suitcase and Grindylow tank in the entrance hall, he knocked on the door to the study. Calyxa called something in Italian, so he opened the door and went in.

She looked up from her desk where two ancient books sat open in front of her and a long scroll of parchment was unrolled. "Remus!" Her face lit with delight, and she set down her quill. "You look much recovered."

"I am, thanks to you," he answered as his feelings swung wildly back and forth. The expression on her face, the warm affection in her eyes, could make a man forget everything else. However, he had seen the photo of her looking sweetly at her lover, so he was able to steel himself against her. "I've come to thank you and say goodbye," he went on. "It was very kind of you to take me in. I honestly don't know what I would have done if you hadn't."

She sat still and stared at him with a little frown. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he answered pleasantly, "but it's time for me to go."

She stood up. He grew wary, for he knew that if she came close and embraced him, he was in danger of losing control. "You can stay as long as you wish, but I suspect that you know that."

"I know, but it's best for me to go now."

Her eyes looked troubled. "Please tell me what has happened to bring out this… coldness in you." When he didn't reply, she said, "The last time you said goodbye, you indicated that my feelings were not… reciprocated. These past few weeks, I have thought perhaps that may have changed."

What to say? It was almost impossible to resist such delicate seduction, but he had to keep in mind that he had seen her expression as she gazed at her lover. "You have dozens of wizards," he managed to say with a gentle smile. "You don't need _me_."

Again, she nodded, but now, she was blinking, and he had the sudden fear that she was about to cry. "I understand," she murmured, "but I hope you will write to me sometimes to let me know how you are."

"I shall," he agreed with another forced smile. "Give my regards to Amanita and Signora Chalaza."

She nodded again. At least she wasn't blinking anymore.

"Thank you for everything, and I'm sure I'll be seeing you around," he lied.

"Please take good care of yourself," she whispered.

Knowing that he would lose his resolve if this continued, he nodded, turned, and went out of the study. As soon as he had taken up his belongings, he Disapparated, knowing he would not see her again.

* * *

Acknowledgment: Many thanks to the glorious Clara Minutes, who returned this to me with corrections a mere two hours after I had sent it to her! 


	38. The Errand

**Chapter 37: The Errand**

Many colorful leaves floated down and settled lightly at Calyxa's feet as she sat watching Amanita repeatedly shrieking and leaping into a pile of leaves that magically maintained itself. The little girl wore old, worn robes, and her hair was woven into a tight plait; however, Calyxa knew that the end result would be torn, filthy robes and hair tangled with leaves and twigs. Still, seeing her daughter so filled with joy pleased her and made her smile, which was not a common event these days.

More than three months had passed since she had last seen Remus, and he had not written to her. Although she had tried to hide her misery from Amanita, the child could perceive her feelings rather easily. Not so surprising, really, for the girl _was_ Janarra, after all. "Do you miss Professor Lupin?" she had asked unexpectedly one day, which had startled Calyxa into admitting that she did.

The old pain returned to her almost as sharp as it had been all those years ago. Remus had found a new girlfriend a mere two months after she had gone home. Losing both him and her mother at the same time had been the most painful thing that had ever happened to her, even worse than the ending of her marriage.

She rubbed her head as she recalled it. _So, next year?_ he had asked her that day as they sat together in the Room of Requirement, and the memory echoed in the vast halls of her mind. At that moment, he had been ready to marry her. The only comfort she had taken in the years since then was that she had been absent for two months before he had found a new girl. It wasn't much, but it was all she had.

On the other hand, this time was her own fault, of course, and she had no one else to blame. As a grown woman with plenty of experience with all types of men, she had been stupid to allow her affection for him to cloud her judgment. Although he had misled her as a schoolboy, she had been a fool for him this time and had pushed him beyond the bonds of friendship, knowing full well that he did not feel about her the same way that she did about him.

Even though they had not really spoken since their unfortunate row over Doge – or Sirius, she now knew – at least she had seen him every day at Hogwarts and had been able to feel his presence. As always, just being near him was soothing to her senses. With that feeling gone, it was difficult for her to adjust to the way things were before he had returned to her life.

Recalling his gentle, kind words to her at their last farewell made her cringe even now. _You have dozens of wizards. You don't need_ me. Perhaps he thought that saying such a thing would make her feel better about his rejection. In her life, she had eased away from many amorous wizards in a similar way. The words were not condescending, but she hated being the object of his pity.

Perhaps it was better that they didn't see each other. If she did, the wound would not heal properly. With time, perhaps she would learn to forget and to find happiness with someone else. With Borodin, there had been many years of happiness before things had fallen apart. Perhaps there was another wizard somewhere…

Tears filled her eyes. Another wizard was not what she wanted!

"Mamma!" Amanita's voice interrupted her thoughts. "An owl!"

True enough, a huge, striped bird was swooping down, and Calyxa brushed quickly at her eyes with her fingertips before the child noticed the tears. Then the letter fell into her lap, and the world stopped for an instant, for the handwriting was vaguely familiar. _Remus_, she thought with a sharp ache in her heart as she opened the envelope.

The message was brief, and her eyes went immediately to the signature. "Sirius?" she said aloud in shock.

* * *

Every fortnight, Calyxa went up to the Hogwarts School in the evening to meet with Mr. Filch. Since Remus had resigned at the end of June, there had been no one to instruct the old Squib through the months of July and August. When the term got underway, Calyxa had gently persuaded him to entrust his secret to the kind and gentle Professor Flitwick. Eventually, Filch had agreed, and the lessons had progressed slowly and steadily from there. At the beginning of October, Professor Flitwick had accompanied them to Ollivander's, where Filch, silent and overwhelmed, had bought his first wand.

"You know very well that doing your exercises every day would make a difference," she told the poor old man with a small smile. "I can see that you have been practicing Professor Flitwick's lessons, but that is not enough."

"Yes, ma'am,. Of course, of course." He never disagreed with anything she said, and he always worked very hard whenever she was present. Filius had informed her that Filch was one of the least disciplined students he had ever taught but seemed to be making slow, steady progress with the basic spells he had learned..

"Mr. Filch, before I go, I would like to ask you a small favor," she said to him when their session was finished.

"Sure, anything," he replied eagerly.

"Would you kindly ask Harry Potter to come here? I would like to speak with him."

"Certainly, ma'am," he agreed, pleased to do the errand for her. "I'll go and get him right away."

As she waited for the caretaker to fetch the boy, she stood up and paced a little. During the months she had stayed here last year, she had not had much contact with the boy. Remus had told her that he was a charming, good-hearted child, and she hoped that Sirius's concerns were unfounded.

She looked up and smiled when he entered. "Good evening," she called pleasantly as the boy came silently into the room. "Thank you for taking the time to see me."

"It's all right," he mumbled, looking uncomfortable.

"Please sit down," she suggested as she took her own seat at the small table she used. Harry perched on the chair and looked at her with his eyes wide behind his glasses. She smiled at him. "It is impossible for those of us who knew your mother and father to look at you and not see both of them."

He frowned. "Did you know them?"

"Only a little," she admitted. "Lily was one of my tutors. She helped me with my English, and she was immensely kind to me at a very difficult time in my life."

A bright, happy smile appeared on the boy's face.

"I did not know James well," she went on, "but he had the capacity for compassion, gentleness, and generosity as well."

He grinned. "Most people tell me he was a troublemaker."

That made her laugh. "Yes, there was that, as well, but I am glad to say that he was not thus towards me. He and his friends took pity on me – a pathetic foreign child among many strangers."

"Then… did you know Sirius?"

"Yes, him I knew quite well."

"Did you...?" The boy studied her with wide, questioning eyes and an inability to form a polite sentence. "Were you…?"

"No matter what you have heard, he and I were never engaged," she assured him. "No, he was a dear friend, like a brother rather than a lover – boyfriend. Perhaps your friend, Miss Granger, represents something similar to you."

"Yeah." He grinned again.

"I received a letter from him two days ago, which is why I asked to speak to you."

"He wrote to you? Where is he?" The boys grew a bit agitated. "He shouldn't come back. It's too dangerous. There's nothing wrong with me."

The powerful emotional reaction touched her. "Child, I do not think there is anything in the world more important to him than you, not even himself, and he is terribly worried about you. He asked me to check on you in his absence." With a little sigh, she studied him, for he was so very young. "Do you know who submitted your name for the competition?"

"No," he replied, and she knew he was telling the truth.

"You do not need _me_ to tell you to be cautious," she went on. "I only wish there were something concrete that I could do to help you.

"If you write to Sirius, or if you talk to him, _make_ him be careful," he urged.

"Darling, it is not in my ability to _make_ that man do anything," she told him with a soft smile.

With his brow furrowed, he sighed. "If you're his friend, there must be some way to make him listen to you."

"Yes, I do have my own means of persuasion," she agreed with a mischievous smile. "But you must understand that the easiest way to keep him safe is to keep you safe. Let your friends help you. Be sure to tell Professor Dumbledore everything that happens. And Sirius says you can rely on the man called Moody."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered.

"Very well. It is easier for me to come here than for Sirius, of course. Please let me know if I can aid you with any help or advice."

"Sure. I will. Thanks."

She stood up and walked with him to the door. The boy was nearly as tall as her! "Hopefully, we shall soon discover who submitted your name, and the mystery will be solved."

"That'd be great," he muttered with a sigh as he opened the door for her.

As Calyxa thanked him and preceded him into the hall, she saw two figures straightening up from where they were leaning against the wall. "Hi, Countess," said Fred Weasley.

"Fancy meeting you here," added George.

"The Messieurs Weasley," she greeted in an amused voice. "I am pleased to see you both looking so well."

"We heard you were here to see Harry – " said Fred.

" – and were crushed that you didn't ask to see _us_ as well."

"But I have just asked Mr. Potter to fetch you for me," she countered. "You must know that I would not let such a brilliant opportunity pass."

Both boys chuckled at her outright lie; Harry grinned as well. A vague sense of unease tingled in Calyxa's senses, and she glanced up and down the hall. She didn't see anyone or anything, but she could certainly feel something dark and twisted.

"Are you all right?" asked George, coming closer. "Did you hear something?"

She shook her head to clear it. "No," she told them, "but before I go, I would like to say one thing." She glanced at Harry and then looked very soberly at the twins. "Whoever entered Harry's name in this competition has not done it as a joke. There is some quite serious danger to him, but no one knows from where."

Fred was frowning, and George nodded in agreement with her.

"Please keep your eyes and ears open," she asked. "Be alert for anything strange. Someone bears ill-will towards Harry, and those of us who are his friends must watch out for him."

"Constant vigilance," said Fred and a mimicking voice.

The boys chuckled, and George explained to her, "He's just imitating our new professor, Mad-Eye Moody."

"Is that so?" she replied with a little smile. "He sounds like he knows what he is talking about."

* * *

Acknowledgment: The usual gratitude goes to Clara Minutes for her excellent beta work. 


	39. The Doge's Visit

**Chapter 38: The Doge's Visit**

After a morning meeting with the editor of the journal publishing her latest paper, Calyxa walked around a small park in the frigid December wind to collect her thoughts and allow herself to feel depressed for a while before going home. In just a few days, the Winter Solstice would occur and the Wheel of the Year would turn; however, she dreaded the day this year, for it was when Amanita went to Borodin. With her and Mrs. Chalaza gone to Italy, Calyxa would be alone in the little house with just Gocciolina for company.

Although she forced herself to get out socially to take her mind off Remus, she enjoyed her excursions. Her social life was as busy as ever. Many interesting people filled her social calendar, including dates with an assortment of eligible wizards. The newspapers still printed photographs and scandalous stories about whoever escorted her, but she had stopped looking at the gossip columns long before.

When she arrived home just before midday, she was surprised to hear Amanita's voice out in the garden, for the child didn't usually like to play outside when it was this cold. Curious, she went out through the garden door.

Cozy within her warming spell, Mrs. Chalaza was sitting watching in the grey daylight as Amanita tossed a large stick and cried, "Fetch!" A familiar, black dog barked and bounded after the stick. Then Amanita caught sight of her. "Mamma!" she cried, rushing to her. "Look who's come to visit! It's_Doge_!"

"I can see that," she remarked with a smile even as a thousand thoughts rushed through her head. Had something happened? Was something wrong? Why was Sirius here? Had something happened to Remus? Or Harry?

"Mrs. Chalaza said he couldn't come inside unless you said it was okay," the child continued. "It's so cold outside. Can't Doge come inside for luncheon? Please, Mamma!"

"Well, since he is our old friend, he may come in," she said, "but we cannot take in any strange animals you encounter."

"Yay!" Amanita clapped her hands together before running to her furry playmate. "Did you hear that, Doge? Mamma says you may stay." She embraced the dog's neck.

"Now, you are to go inside with Mrs. Chalaza and wash your face and hands," Calyxa informed her. "I shall bring Doge."

As she escorted the excited child into the house, the older witch shot a questioning look to Calyxa, who nodded briefly. No surprise, really, that she recognized there was something unusual about the dog.

One they were gone, Calyxa smiled at him. "Very well. It is safe to show yourself."

Immediately, the dog shifted and became the tall figure of a man she knew. "Hi," he said in a voice that sounded hoarse from disuse.

"Darling," she murmured, moving closer to embrace him. "Are you well? Has something happened? Is Harry all right?"

"No. I'm fine. Everything's fine," he assured her, hugging her back. "Though this is the best welcome I've had in recent memory!" He ran his hands down her back.

"You are freezing!" she declared, for he was still quite thin and was wearing only plain robes. "Running around in the middle of December without a cloak!"

"That's why I stay a dog most of the time," he informed her. "But don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"You should come into the house immediately." She took his arm to lead him. "A hot meal and some warmth will do wonders, I suspect."

"No, wait." He pulled back. "We shouldn't let the little girl see me."

"She knows there is something unusual about you," Calyxa sighed. "She is Janarra, after all, even if only a little one. Children have feelings about such things and strong connections with animals."

Sirius shook his head. "I'm putting you in enough danger just by being here. If you're the only one who knows, then you're less likely to get hauled into the Ministry for harboring a fugitive."

Calyxa felt like laughing and weeping at the same time. Poor, dear Sirius, so reckless and yet so noble. "Darling," she said very gently, "we practice magic that your Ministry does not understand. We will be in no danger. I would not let you come inside if there was any danger to my child."

"I'll come as Padfoot," he insisted before transforming into the big dog.

Calyxa studied him for a moment, knowing she couldn't win. "If you insist," she said before leading him inside.

* * *

After a pile of delicious food, a hot bath, a nap, and a fresh, clean set of robes – all courtesy of the little Italian house-elf that certainly put Kreacher to shame – Sirius felt human again. Only after the little girl had gone to bed that night did he come down the stairs as a wizard. Sitting in front of the fire and drinking wine with Calyxa, he relaxed and sank down into the cushions of the sofa.

For a long time, they discussed Harry and that blasted tournament. Everything about it seemed sinister, and his own inability to be physically present for the boy frustrated Sirius.

"Karkaroff used to be a Death Eater, and you never stop being a Death Eater. It's not like they let you retire. I think he may be involved in this," Sirius explained. "Can't you look inside his head? The way you look at memories?"

"It is an extremely difficult thing to do without the other person's cooperation. Not to mention ethically unsound," she replied.

"But you _can_. Can't you?" She didn't reply, which meant to him that she didn't deny it. "If you did it to help protect Harry's life, it wouldn't be wrong ethically, would it? I mean, someone's out to get him."

She met his gaze with deadly earnestness. "Violating another person's mind is seen as a kind of mental assault. Almost like rape."

"No, this is different," he disagreed. "You wouldn't be doing it for yourself, for selfish reasons, not for any gain or to hurt anyone. You'd be doing it to help an innocent child." He sighed. "And I'm not asking for me. I'm asking for that poor boy who's been an orphan all his life. He needs somebody to look out for him."

Her eyes closed. "Yes, you are right."

"Then you'll do it?"

With a sigh, she opened her eyes. "I have received a rather inappropriate invitation to a ball that is to take place at the school on Christmas night. I have been considering my options, for I cannot possibly accept. Now, my path is clear. I shall ask Severus if he will be my escort"

Had he heard her correctly? "What?"

"He likes to use me to make his lady jealous," she informed him with a mischievous smile.

A dark knot of envy twisted in his gut. "You mean that greasy git has a girlfriend?" he asked before pushing those considerations aside. "Who invited you? Who's inappropriate?"

She hesitated before answering. "A young man who is not yet of age."

His lips twitched and he felt his own wicked grin spreading across his face. "Merlin! You certainly do get around, Contessa."

She rolled her eyes. "I shall find out if he bears ill-will towards Harry," she said, but then she frowned at him. "I doubt it will satisfy you, though. Even if you were there every moment of the day, he would be no safer than he is now," said Calyxa in that soft, soothing way of hers. "With Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and Flitwick there. And others. You cannot imagine that they would not protect him."

"I'm sure they would," he began, but she cut him off.

"And none of them is reckless and hot-headed, as you are."

He couldn't help chuckling. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he quipped before changing the subject. "How is Remus these days? I'm surprised he's not here. I was half-expecting to find you two finally married and enjoying a long honeymoon."

The expression on her face told Sirius that he had said the wrong thing. Poor Calyxa looked as if he had punched her in the gut.

"Don't tell me you two split up again," he said, but seeing how that statement wounded her further, he attempted a gentler approach. "What did he do?"

"He did nothing," Calyxa assured him. "It was all me."

That worried Sirius because even on the run, he had heard a little about her social life. "Then what did _you_ do?"

She rubbed her forehead and eyes with her left hand. "I expected too much."

Her response was a mystery, but he was fairly certain that she wouldn't respond well to anything too brusque or flippant. "Princess," he coaxed, "you two should have been married maybe fifteen, seventeen years ago. With me as best man, of course."

She remained silent with her head bent under the weight of her sorrow. Sirius felt enormous pity for her. What had she done to alienate Remus? It was hard to imagine that anything she did would drive him away. Then he recalled her immoral, debauched reputation. People had been saying such things about her since she was fifteen. She must have really had all those high profile affairs if the soft-hearted werewolf had left her.

"It was you," he said suddenly. "I thought maybe he had been… well, acting bad. It's easier to believe in a man. But it was you who was fooling around when you shouldn't've been, wasn't it?"

Tears appeared in her eyes, but she glared at him. "You have no right to say such a thing to me," she snapped. "I was never unfaithful, not even remotely. It was _he_ who found someone new. Not I."

Her passionate denouncement startled him; however, he knew Remus better. "He never found someone new," he told her in a voice laced with more bitterness than he intended. "After you left, whatever it was that happened – and he never told us – it killed him for a while. He never had another girlfriend."

No, Remus had not had a girlfriend from the time that Calyxa had left until Sirius had gone to Azkaban. They hadn't even tried to set him up with their single friends because they had thought he was waiting until Calyxa was old enough and settled in her life as contessa… Now, Sirius hoped that he had found a lovely, affectionate woman to keep him company at least for some of the time in between then and now.

"He wrote to me two months after I left that he had a new girlfriend and he did not feel the same way about me." She wept huge, round tears and spoke in a near-whisper. "Right after my mother died."

"Bollocks," Sirius spat. "He didn't have another girlfriend at Hogwarts. For Merlin's sake, we lived in the same dormitory! And he didn't have anyone for a couple years after that. I'm sure."

Tears were streaming down her face, and she was clutching her handkerchief. The poor thing looked so heartbroken that it softened him. "I am not a liar," she whispered. "You were there. The day I left – you _saw_. We were… engaged. My parents allowed it despite my youth because they had meet Remus and approved of him and… I was about to become the countess myself. The usual rule of waiting until age seventeen became obsolete."

Yes, he had been there and he had seen. What she said made sense, but what had happened? "He wrote you a letter?" he asked.

"Yes. To end our engagement."

"He broke up with you in a _letter_? _Remus Lupin_ broke up with you in a letter?"

"Yes." She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. "I still have the letter. It was one of the few things that I had to remember him. It is very… blunt."

"So, he sent a letter claiming that he had a new girlfriend?"

"Yes. He also apologized for breaking up while I was in mourning."

Sirius sat back and frowned at her. "I'm not exaggerating. He was like the living dead for a long time afterwards. Miserable. He wouldn't tell use what had happened, but we figured that he had to wait a few years for you. I _know_ he didn't have another girlfriend."

She shook her head. "He lied to me, then, but it changes nothing else. He did not want me even though he had no one else. He does not want me now, either."

"This is crazy," he said. "He really was miserable after you left. There was never anyone else. You have to talk to him about it."

"Talk to him?" Her laughter held a note of hysteria, and tears seeped from her eyes. "He has severed all contact. Again. He has not even written to me."

"When's the last time you saw him?"

"A few days after I last saw you. The end of June. He said that he would – " Here, she broke off with a sob.

"What?" he prodded.

"I told him that I still felt the same way," she admitted in a broken voice, and Sirius felt both compassion for her and anger towards Moony. "Not that I had ever attempted to hide it. He replied, very kindly, that I had enough wizards so that I did not need him."

He considered it. "_Do_ you have other wizards?"

She glared at him. "Oh, yes, one for every night of the week," she muttered. "Do you really think I could have an affair with another man while Remus was so close every day?"

"You do have that reputation," he pointed out.

"Yes, and that all started because of me friendship with _you_," she retorted. Then she leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and drew in a big breath. "Enough. I have no wish to speak any more of this. You have always been a dear friend to me, and we should not bicker this way."

He was by no means finished with the subject, for he meant to find out what was going on between the two of them. Still, there were other things to find out first. "Yeah. Let's see Harry safe. It's more pressing. Then we'll get to the bottom of this."

* * *

Acknowledgment: Thanks, as usual, to Clara Minutes for her fabulous beta work. 


	40. An Unexpected Meeting

**Chapter 39: An Unexpected Meeting**

Wrapping his heavy cloak more tightly around him, Remus trudged down one of the side streets off Diagon Alley. He had lost his latest Muggle job about a week earlier, and although he still had enough squirreled away from his Hogwarts' salary to get along for a little while, he had to find a job before Christmas, which was only a few days away. Feelings of frustration and defeat had faded a bit when he overheard that a bookshop was advertising for a clerk with some knowledge of books. He trudged on, refusing to allow his hopes to rise.

Over the years, he had become accustomed to disappointment, and now, as a grown man, he was in complete control of all his hopes and expectations. He could not control his subconscious mind, however, and as a result, he regularly dreamed of Calyxa. Had it been six months since he had last seen her? It was still as painful as if it were yesterday.

He stopped in the street. There, in the dusty window of a small bookshop, was a handwritten sign:  
_Help wanted  
Must be familiar with books  
Enquire 1st floor  
Mr. Jarvis, Manager_

With all his hopes and fears suppressed, Remus found the door and ascended the stairs to seek the manager. Taking a deep breath, he raked his fingers through his hair and straightened his robes neatly.

The door at the top opened inwards, and he knew at once that he had made a dreadful mistake. This was not a bookshop manager's office. He found himself at the front desk of a very posh restaurant with mahogany-paneled walls, thick carpet, and many tall plants. A heavy-lidded wizard with a protruding upper lip stood staring at him in disdain. By his stiff, black robes, this arrogant-looking fellow was the maitre d'.

"May I help you?" the man asked as he examined Remus's robes with a sneer, and a wizard and a witch who were putting on their cloaks with the help of a staff member glanced over at them.

"I'm sorry," said Remus, wondering if he dared ask this man with the condescending attitude where the bookshop manager's office was. "I think I've come to the wrong place."

The man's eyes narrowed even more. "I know you. Professor Lupin from Hogwarts, isn't it?'

Two wizards looked over from a table near the fireplace, and the couple with the cloaks stopped to watch. All Remus's instincts told him to turn and flee.

"We don't serve your kind here," the man went on. "No half-breeds. Only wizards."

Everyone was looking at him. As accustomed as he was to humiliation and rejection, Remus froze his emotions in his chest and turned to go. He had to get outside right away; he concentrated on escaping.

"Ah, Lupin, there you are." One of the two wizards he had noticed earlier had left the table and come over. "We knew you would be late, so we've already ordered."

Remus stood staring at the man in the elegant brown robes, for although he had aged, Calyxa's brother had not changed much in all the years since they had met. "Marin Venier?" he asked in shock. Then his heart lurched. Could Calyxa be here, having lunch with him? He turned to scan the tables in the restaurant, but he didn't see her.

"Forgive me, Signore Venier," said the maitre d' in a completely different voice that the one he had used with Remus. "Is this…"

"Professor Lupin is my guest today," Marin Venier said with the same serene smile that Calyxa used so effectively. "Please have a place set for him."

"Yes, sir, of course. Right away."

As if in some weird dream, Remus found his cloak taken, and then the two of them were escorted to the table near the fireplace, where the other wizard, a tall man dressed in rich blue robes, rose to greet them.

Calmer now that he knew Calyxa was not present, Remus found himself facing the elegant, handsome Borodin della Gherardesca, her ex-husband. "Prince Borodin," he murmured aloud, startled. It all seemed like a hallucination.

"Lupin," said the prince with a nod, and all three of them settled down at the table.

"I shall order for you if you don't mind," Venier suggested.

Having not eaten a proper meal in a while, Remus was hungry enough to eat anything, even here and in the company of Prince Borodin. Not that he imagined anything here wasn't excellent. In a posh restaurant like this, one couldn't go wrong. He had been in difficult situations many times, and the current one should prove easy in comparison. On the other hand, he knew very well that they would tell Calyxa that they had seen him. They'd probably tell her everything he said.

When the waiter had set another place and the wine steward had poured another glass of wine, the prince sat back and studied Remus. "That man is a mannerless pig. You should not allow anyone speak to you that way. Especially not one like him. It will reflect poorly on Calyxa and, through her, on me."

Had he been any less startled but the comments, Remus would have found the prince's selfishness amusing. "How can it reflect badly on her?"

"No matter how careful you are, people will eventually find out," Venier informed him while casting an unamused glance at Prince Borodin. "Calyxa is not exactly unobtrusive. You will be seen together."

Did he really imagine that Remus and Calyxa were involved? Her own brother? Remus knew quite well that Calyxa's family did not discuss love affairs, but it seemed odd that Marin would think they were together when they weren't. "No, you're mistaken. She has another wizard. Another boyfriend – lover."

The prince narrowed his eyes. "I've heard she was seen at the Malfoy's ball last year with another teacher at the school. Not you. The fellow was described to me as looking like something Calyxa had scraped off the bottom of her shoe."

Venier rolled his eyes. "By Losna's light, Borodin, must you be so crude?"

Remus had to laugh. He knew the prince meant Snape, and it was an awful thing to say, but the prince's conceited indignation was funny. "That was an escort for convenience's sake."

"Of course it was. She has better taste than that." Prince Borodin shot a glance at Venier before turning his gaze back to Remus. "So she has two of you now. Where do you fit into the equation? You and her and this other wizard?"

The question was odd, strangely metaphorical. Did he imagine there was some kind of love triangle? Remus didn't know what to say or how to respond. The prince obviously didn't have the same ideas about keeping personal things private as did Calyxa and Marin.

"I think you're treading on dangerous ground, now," Venier said without any heat or anger.

Borodin's eyes unfocused and seemed to look inside Remus. "Do you watch?"

Remus felt his face heat with a flush. Anger and shame filled him. How he hated these Janarra and their easy way of perceiving one's feelings!

"Oh, Losna keep us," Borodin sighed. "Do you think you are the only man with deviant appetites? We all have them, you know. Ladies as well."

"Should I not let you speak to me that way?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Touché," said Venier with a grin.

Borodin continued to gaze inside him, and then his eyes focused again. "I can understand why she chose you." Borodin took a sip of his wine and considered Remus at length. "She did not choose you idly. Did she realize what you were when she was a girl?"

"What I was?"

"A slave to Leukothia."

Remus had often heard Calyxa say such things about werewolves. "She never realized, but I eventually told her."

"Never realized," Borodin repeated as the waiter and his assistant came to serve the first course. He waited until the pair was gone before continuing. "I'm not surprised that she didn't know. Bloody self-righteous morality and all that blather." He took a bite of his flaky fish pastry as Venier chuckled.

Remus forced himself to cut a small piece. "What do you mean?" He speared a morsel with his fork and ate it slowly.

"You haven't been with her long enough to discover." Borodin took another bite and washed it down with a sip of wine. "She can reach inside your brain and coax out your thoughts and memories without your knowing. They all can, all the witches, even the young ones. She won't, of course, none of them will. But did you know she was capable of that?"

"No." Not that it was much of a surprise. He had always thought that Calyxa could sense what he was thinking.

"Borodin doesn't like witches to know what he's thinking," remarked Marin. "He has a lot to be embarrassed about."

"As if I worried about such things," the prince snorted as his former brother-in-law laughed. "But eight years we were married, and she never used that ability. Ridiculous discipline of theirs. Drove me insane. The Janarra witches can do remarkable things, but it's a long, dull regimented life."

Remus took two more bites and chewed slowly. With the bitter edge off his hunger, he was able to pause. "Do you think that the late Contessa recognized… what I was?"

Venier froze, looking startled, and the prince paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "You're not serious."

"I'm afraid I am." He tried to speak in a mild, unconcerned tone.

Borodin set down his fork and frowned. "Do you and Calyxa ever actually talk with each other?"

"Not very often." Remus continued eating.

"My mother, realized you were a werewolf the first time she saw you," Venier explained. "No surprise there, really." He picked up his glass of wine and swirled the contents. "Haven't you ever wondered why none of the Janarra knew what you were during that Solstice celebration you attended?"

He hadn't. "Is it really that easy to perceive?"

"I can, and I'm mediocre when it comes to the lunar magic," Borodin volunteered.

"Some of those ancient witches are frighteningly powerful," said Venier.

"So, they all realized?" Remus's appetite had deserted him as he recalled the magical evening all those years ago. It had been one of the happiest days of his life.

"They did not." Borodin gestured for the junior waiter to take away their plates. "Ask Calyxa about it sometime. You'll be surprised at what an entertaining story it is."

Despite a burning curiosity to know what had happened, Remus didn't ask. He considered it as the waiter brought their next course, a thick soup served with crusty slabs of warm bread. Instead of slurping it up, Remus forced himself to slowly sip spoonfuls.

"Tell me," he began when he had taken a sip of wine. "How do you know so much about me? I know very well that Calyxa doesn't talk about such things."

Prince Borodin rolled his eyes. "You are an ignorant creature, aren't you?"

Venier drew in a deep breath, looking a bit more serious than usual. "In her will, my mother gave her blessing for Calyxa to marry you."

Whatever else was said, Remus didn't hear it. "What?" he whispered. It had to be true. Venier would not invent such a thing. In a sudden rush of pain and grief, Remus saw all the waste and loss of the years that had passed since he had pushed Calyxa away, had broken her heart and hurt her badly so that she would stay away from him. And for what? Something that turned out to be untrue – a mistake. He had thrown away their chance at a happy life together because of a frightened schoolboy's desperate mistake.

"What is it?" asked Venier in a gentle voice. "Lupin? Are you all right?"

"By Losna," muttered the prince. "You really do need to sit down and have a serious conversation with that witch."

Still stunned by the revelation, Remus merely said, "We're not currently on speaking terms."

"No?" asked Venier.

"What did you do _this_ time?" Prince Borodin asked.

Venier turned his cool gaze upon the prince, but Remus just said, "Does it matter?" At the moment, he was awash in a sea of misery.

"Probably not," Borodin remarked.

"Just apologize to her," said Venier. "She's not one to hold a grudge."

"Is she still with Elias Peschel?" Remus asked in a moment of madness.

Borodin laughed, but Venier frowned. "You're not serious. Are you?"

"Is _that_ the so-called other lover?" sneered Borodin.

"She's not?" Remus felt his heart beating wildly in his chest like a bird's. What other mistakes had he made, blindly trying to do what was what right to protect everyone?

"Not for a year and a half at least," Venier assured him. "Lupin, listen to me. If that's all you've fallen out over, you have to go and speak to her."

"What makes you think she'd go back to that idiot?" Borodin asked.

"I've seen them together." Remus thought that his voice sounded slow and indistinct.

Borodin was grinning. "You don't know much about women, do you?"

"Not at all."

"Just apologize for whatever it is you've done," Venier repeated as the waiters took away the soup bowls and spoons.

"Take her out somewhere nice," Borodin added. "It's ridiculous to live this way." He gestured at Remus's frayed and patched robes. Venier looked at him with a rather serious glare, and the two wizards locked eyes. "Have you no steady work?" the prince finally asked, breaking eye contact with Venier.

"No," Remus admitted. All the new information was overflowing from his mind, and he needed time to process everything. Plus, these two Janarra wizards were making him nervous and uncomfortable. "Not many people will risk hiring someone like me. There are laws prohibiting it, you know. It can't be much better in Italy."

"So write a book," Borodin suggested. "They certainly pay Calyxa ridiculous amounts of money for such nonsense."

"I'm afraid I haven't got her talent," said Remus.

"And I'm sure he would like to eat and keep a roof over his head while he was writing," Venier quipped.

Remus grinned a little at that comment. He had always liked Marin Venier, who was more than a dozen years older than him, and with a good meal in him, his sense of humor was returning. "The sad truth is that I came into this restaurant because I saw a sign downstairs advertising a position available for a sales clerk in a bookshop. I was looking for the manager's office to put in my application."

"Sales clerk?" repeated Prince Borodin with a look of distaste. "It doesn't suit you."

"I haven't got much choice," he shrugged.

"Then stand for office," Borodin suggested. "Do something useful to change the laws."

"Oh, by Losna," muttered Venier. "You've never lived with hardship."

"No. No one in my family ever gambled away any portion of our fortune."

At that, Venier raised his brows and Prince Borodin grew slightly tense. Some kind of invisible line had been crossed. There was a second of silence before Venier laughed. "Not yet."

Remus sat looking at the two of them. Had someone in Venier's family gambled away their fortune?

"Ask Calyxa for help," Borodin went on. "She knows everyone and has plenty of friends who owe her favors. Unless you're too proud, that is. She could probably hire you herself if you're that desperate. She's always looking for someone to teach magic to her subjects."

"That's enough," said Venier in a cool, sharp tone, and the other wizard fell silent.

Before anyone could speak, another wizard approached the table. "Good day, your highness, gentlemen," he said.

"Ah, there you are, Grissom," the prince drawled with a little smile. "Your staff has been insulting my guests, you know."

"Yes, I've just heard what happened," the man said, and Remus thought he sounded nervous. "Please accept my apologies. It won't happen again."

"I certainly hope not!" Borodin went on with a glint in his eyes. "If your staff treats an English wizard that way, I can't imagine how they'll react when I have a vampire or a hag or a giant as my guest."

"You're absolutely correct, your highness." Tiny drops of perspiration appeared on his upper lip and forehead. "It was unforgivably rude behavior on our part, and I'm very sorry."

"Thank you," Venier broke in, glancing at Prince Borodin to silence him. "See that such an appalling scene doesn't happen again."

"Yes, sir." Grissom appeared immensely relieved. "Your main course will be right out." He bowed a little and scurried away.

A small, cruel part of Remus was glad that the prince had spoken roughly to the manager to punish him for the way Remus had been treated. It was a small enough revenge, to be sure, but the better part of him knew that such pettiness would only result in making him bitter.

"Is your father well?" he asked in order to change the subject.

"He is positively blooming," Marin informed him with his cheerful manner returning. "He was as thrilled as the rest of us when Borodin let us know that Calyxa had found you again."

These sentiments and the warmth with which they were expressed bore painfully into Remus's heart. How was he going to tell Venier the truth? And what was the truth? If Calyxa hadn't gone back to Peschel, was she unattached? And whose dressing gown had she been wearing last year?

"Borodin, would you mind going up to the smoking room and see how crowded it is?" Venier asked.

"Not at all." The prince set down his linen napkin and got to his feet, "but you could have just said you want to speak privately, and I would have gone anyway." He grinned at both of them before turning away, and Remus was struck again and how handsome he was. Jealousy twisted his insides. Had he really been Calyxa's husband for eight years?

"He can be extremely cruel," Venier remarked when he was gone. "I think it was the main reason that Calyxa left him. You are lucky that he likes you."

"I'd be afraid to see what would happen if he_didn't_ like me," Remus chuckled, but he dreaded hearing what the other wizard wanted to say in private.

"You may think me offensively rude for interfering in matters that are none of my business, but I only do so out of affection for my sister," Venier explained. "She never informed any of us why she broke your engagement, but I have no doubt that she had excellent reasons. As for now, whatever has occurred, don't let it go on. Just speak to her. I'm married nearly twenty years, and I know how easy it is for small things to cause major problems."

Remus nodded slowly. Maybe he was right.

"The fact that you thought she had gone back to Peschel worries me," Venier went on. "If that's what this is all about, you've made a terrible mistake."

"Not exactly," said Remus.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll sort it out." Venier took out a small, leather book from within his robes and gestured to one of the waiters, who brought over a quill and ink pot. "Take her here and I shall make arrangements to cover the cost. I insist."

Despite Remus's protests, Venier wrote an Italian name and a London address on the back of one of his calling cards. Remus studied it, wondering if he could accept. He could send an owl to Calyxa inviting her to dine with him…

"I can see that you are suffering, and that you misled her for her own good," said Venier very gently. "It is no secret that you are in love with her. That is not something that a man can hide. Whatever it takes, you must patch up your misunderstandings. Promise me that you will."

Feeling warm, drunk, and ridiculously optimistic, Remus tucked the card into an inner pocket. "Yes, of course."


	41. Yule and the Ball

**Chapter 40: Yule and the Ball**

The usual delivery of the morning post commenced with hundreds of owls swooping down to deposit letters and parcels on the table in front of the intended recipient. Errol, as usual, had a bit of trouble finding his mark: he dropped a slim, colorful envelope between Ron and Fred.

"What's this?" said Ron, picking it up. The envelope was a rich, creamy parchment bordered with twined ivy and flowers. In a very elegant script, it was addressed to Mr. George Weasley. In shock, Ron realized that the letter was scented; he held in close to sniff at it – a delicate fragrance – a _girl_.

"_Mister_ George Weasley?" cried Fred, snatching it from Ron's hand.

"Give it here." George lunged at his twin, who held it out of reach.

"It's a love letter," Fred laughed as George tackled him against the table. "_Mister_ George Weasley!"

Roughly, George snatched the letter from him and thrust it inside his robes.

"George's got a girlfriend outside of Hogwarts?" asked Ron in shock.

"Nose out," warned George before striding away. Once he was alone in the hall, he pulled out his letter, glanced round furtively before sniffing it, and broke the seal to take out parchment bordered by the same elegant flowers as the envelope. He scanned the message eagerly.

_Dear George,_

_I thank you for the great honor of your inviting me to attend the Yule Ball. It is with profound regret that I decline, for I have accepted the invitation of an escort already. However, I hope to have the pleasure of your company for at least one dance._

_With best personal regards,  
Calyxa di Janarra_

* * *

Because of the powerful lunar magic still pulsing through her after the Solstice celebration, Calyxa knew she would stand out among the other adults at the ball. There was little enough she could do to change it, so she decided to wear simple robes and stay in the background as much as possible. 

In truth, she had little interest in the ball and wished she had not promised Sirius that she would attend. On the other hand, the boy, Harry, was certainly in a serious situation, and she really did want to prove that Igor Karkaroff was responsible for his name being entered into the Goblet of Fire and be done with it.

As she had expected, Severus had agreed to escort her to the ball; however, he had only done so with the understanding that she would arrive on time and not make an entrance. That condition amused her because poor Severus was so conscious of attention.

She knew that being seen with him would generate some gossip, but she was fairly certain that it would be minor as compared to her recent social life in London. Going to such a public event as the ball, which would obviously have many guests and Ministry officials in attendance, would be reasonably unremarkable, for she would have dozens of wizards with whom to dance. She also knew that Severus would not dance in front of his students.

As she prepared for the Yule Ball, which she thought was a bizarre title for an event that occurred three whole days after the true Yule, or Winter Solstice, Calyxa found her mind returning, rather feverishly, to the events of the past few days. It had all started, of course, with Borodin and his teasing remarks to her at the Solstice celebration…

"Marin and I dined with your little friend," Borodin informed her after the Solstice Ritual.

"Little friend?" She adjusted her heavy, white robes as she studied her reflection in the mirror, only half paying attention to what he was saying. "I can't imagine whom you mean."

"That's because no one is little next to you," he quipped. "I was referring to the badly-dressed Lupin. Wolf-boy."

Calyxa stopped and turned all her attention to him. "Remus? You saw him? You _dined_ with him?"

"I didn't know he was a voyeur," he drawled with a wicked smile.

"When did you see him?" she demanded. "Where?"

"Of course you know." He eyed her with a speculative light in his eyes. "I expect it only makes him more attractive to you."

"Borodin!" she snapped.

He sighed. "We ran into him yesterday. He was job-hunting, so we took the poor, thin thing to dine with us. He ate like he hadn't seen a good meal in weeks."

The air seemed trapped in her lungs. She moved to the nearest chair and sank down. "Did he say anything about me?"

"He asked if you had gone back to that idiot Peschel." Borodin heaved a dramatic sigh. "Can you imagine?"

"What did you tell him?" she asked in a wavering voice.

He cocked one elegant eyebrow at her. "I told him that you had better taste in wizards than to give that idiot a second chance."

"I wonder why he thought I'd gone back to Elias," she mused, feeling agitated and frustrated. "Well, did he seem surprised when you said no? Pleased?"

"What makes you think I said no?" he replied with his wicked grin.

Without saying a word, she cast him an annoyed glance that she had honed over the years. She had no intension of playing his idiotic games, especially at such a time and about such an important topic. He should know better than to bait her this way!

Borodin sighed. "He seemed relieved, I'd say. Other than that, you'll have to ask Marin." Another wicked smile appeared upon his lips. "He sent me off so he could talk to Lupin alone. I don't know what was said in my absence."

Calyxa nodded slowly. "It's so strange. Did he give any reason why he thought I'd gone back to Elias?"

"He said only that he had seen you two together." Now, Borodin had tired of his game as he always did. "Enough. You'll have to ask Marin for any more."

* * *

"He _was_ under the impression that you had resumed your affair with Peschel," Marin replied to her questions, backing up Borodin's story, but in a far more serious way. "And he did claim that he had seen you together." 

"Seen us together?" Feeling a terrible attack of both nerves and frustration, she squeezed her hands together. "Where and when? I do run into him sometimes, and I'm nothing more than cordial when I do."

"Darling, you must speak to him directly if you'd like answers."

"He hasn't contacted me since he left in June," she complained, twisting her hands together. "Marin, please. What else did he say? And what_didn't_ he say?"

He hesitated.

"Marin,_ please_," she begged in a low voice, wild with desperation.

"He said that he was going to contact you," he admitted. "I've made arrangements for the two of you to dine out. He… well, you know he can't afford to take you out anywhere." He shrugged a bit awkwardly, for they were no strangers to frugality.

She looked startled and stunned. It was almost as if she didn't know whether to believe him. "You have?"

He nodded slowly. "He's undoubtedly still in love with you."

Her world ceased for a moment, and then she blinked at him. "Marin," she whispered in a choked voice. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. He's suffering terribly."

Every hair stood on end. "Suffering?" she repeated in anguish. "Marin!"

"He's going to contact you," he said in a soothing voice. "There's nothing more to be done than to wait for that."

"Show me," she pleaded.

And he had. Of course, she knew that he would not have shown her the memory if she had not been so desperate, but it eased her a great deal and prepared her for what was to come, for the following day, she had received his owl.

**Dear Calyxa,**

**I hope this letter finds you well. I realize it's been a while since I've written, and I'm sorry. I was fortunate enough to run into your brother and Prince Borodin the other day, and Marin kindly treated me to lunch.**

**If you're generous enough to forgive my terrible manners in neglecting to contact you for so long, I'd like to take you out to dinner whenever you are free. I'd be happy to take you out any evening that you name.**

**Let me know if you'll agree to see me, and if so, what evening you're free.**

**Yours,  
Remus**

She had devoured the letter and reread it many times, savoring each sweet word and the emotions behind it. The curled strokes of the quill thrilled her, for his handwriting was not tremendously different from what it had been years ago.

Resisting the urge to write back immediately, she had drafted several replies before sending one the following day.

_Dear Remus,_

_I am tremendously happy to hear that you are well and would be pleased and honored to dine with you. If you are not previously engaged, I shall be happy to meet you on Tuesday 28 December at half-seven._

_With warmest affection,  
Calyxa _

* * *

Although Severus Snape had agreed to act as Calyxa's escort for a myriad of reasons, Calyxa's belief that he was agreeing to her request as a favor was not one of them. The sad truth was that he still felt indebted to her for her translation of _The Wisdom of the Witches_, and he knew that teaching her to brew Wolfsbane had not been enough on his part. After tonight, though, their account would be squared. 

Because he had duties at the school. Calyxa came alone and met him outside the Great Hall. When she arrived, he examined her appearance with interest, for although she was wearing simple velvet robes the color of dark red wine, the neckline was cut somewhat low. Not low enough for anyone to complain, but enough to entice all the men in her sphere, for the little contessa had always had a distracting figure, even as a girl.

His eyes flicked over her and he nodded in approval. "You look well, Contessa."

She beamed at him for the compliment, but there was something in her expression that told him she was more amused than pleased, something that had made him feel invariably foolish as a boy. "You are too kind."

"I've been wondering why you wanted to attend this ball," he remarked. "I hope you intend to enlighten me."

He let her take his arm as they strolled into the Great Hall. "It is not possible to keep anything from you, is it?"

"I can't imagine that you asked me to escort you simply for the pleasure of my company."

"My dear Severus, you undervalue yourself greatly."

"But I am correct in this instance."

"Of course you are."

"Then please enlighten me." He stopped and turned to face her, and they had a moment of privacy.

"I would like to have a look at those who are involved in this tournament," she admitted, "for you know that the Potter child did not enter of his own accord."

Although he had known she had a reason for attending, he hadn't expected that answer. "He certainly doesn't have the ability to have done such a thing," he remarked. "However, he does have powerful friends."

"And enemies," she countered.

"Enemies," he repeated. "Do you suspect anyone in particular?"

"No. However, I must start somewhere, and Igor Karkaroff was once a Death Eater."

"You're wasting your time there." He felt a knowing smirk appear on his face. "Karkaroff no more put Potter's name in than I did."

Her brows drew together in a frown. "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"Then… who did do it? Who do you think did it?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly as someone approached them. One of the Weasley twins although Severus could not tell them apart. The boy went straight for Calyxa and only had eyes for her. "Well, one Weasley without the other. This is a first."

"Why, George," said Calyxa with a smile as she extended her hand. "How elegant you are this evening."

"Hi Countess." He was beaming as he grasped her hand. "You look beautiful. I mean, really."

Severus groaned inwardly. He pitied the contessa, for the annoying boy obviously fancied her.

"You are too kind," she murmured with a smile.

"You said you'd dance with me," he reminded, still beaming.

"It will be a pleasure," she replied. "Any dance you choose this evening, for you are the first to ask."

"You'll excuse me," Severus said. "Contessa." He nodded to her before turning and heading back towards the doors.

"You didn't really come with Snape. Did you?" he heard George Weasley say while he was still in earshot.

As he moved out through the students, he considered that he would have to sit with Calyxa at dinner. If he kept her talking about her research, the meal might even be interesting. She also knew well enough that he was not going to dance with her or anyone else, so he didn't have to worry about her making a scene in front of the whole school.

His thoughts turned to Igor. The contessa was certainly not the only one to suspect him of plotting against young Potter; somehow, however, her thinking just like everyone else diminished her in Severus's eyes.

At dinner, she had no problem charming her intended prey, which was really no surprise because she didn't overdo it. Yes, the cunning little witch certainly had a disarming quality. Even as a schoolgirl, she had managed to wrap all the boys, including himself, Black, and Lupin, around her little finger. Only in retrospect had Severus been able to see it, but now he was used to seeing through the delicate, vulnerable façade of hers.

Once the dancing started, Calyxa had no lack of partners, something upon which Severus had been counting. By then he was sure that Calyxa had determined that Igor wasn't involved, so she was trying to ascertain who else might have had a part in entering Potter in the competition.

One thing about the evening did amuse him, and that was the sight of an uncharacteristically earnest George Weasley attempting to woo Calyxa during a romantic slow dance. For several minutes, Severus found amusement in watching the boy making all his best attempts at seduction while the experienced witch countered all his advances with extraordinary ease. If only the rest of the evening had been that entertaining!

Even though he had no escort duties to perform towards Calyxa, Igor began to pester him. In truth, he might have preferred dancing than hearing what the cowardly fool had to say. Worrying about it wasn't going to change anything. Once he had rid himself of Igor's whining, he was glad to see that many of the students had started going back to their dormitories, which relieved him. He knew he'd have a busy hour or so accounting for all of the Slytherins, but after that, the torturous evening would be over.

It was when he thought that he was finally free of the evening's unpleasantness that Calyxa caught hold of his arm. "Severus – who is the man called Moody?" she demanded.

"Oh. Him." He shrugged. "He was once a successful Auror until he was forced into retirement. Apparently, the job caught up with him."

"He is _mad_," she breathed.

"Undeniably."

"But – Severus!" she declared. "He is dangerous!"

Her extreme agitation gave him pause, for she rarely lost her composure. "I know," he told her, "but the headmaster trusts him, so there is nothing we can do. However, he is certainly not as much of a risk to the students as was your old friend _Lupin_."

At that, she rolled her eyes, a childish response from a grown woman. Then she shook her head at him. "The danger I am describing is here now, and you are still stewing over something that happened in the past. I think you are being far more childish."

Her words did not sting. He was too shocked by what had happened, for she had certainly perceived his thoughts. Without any doubt, he knew that his feelings had not shown in the expression on his face.

"Perhaps I should go before we quarrel." She gazed at him with that queer little expression of mingled affection and exasperation that had charmed him since he was sixteen. "Your word is enough. If you say that there is no danger, I know it is true."

The way that she affected him, slight as it was, irritated him since he knew she was only attempting to manipulate him. "The only danger here tonight was from your earnest suitor, young Weasley."

That made her chuckle. "As you are a teacher, I am sure you have had your share of young witches in your classes who have admired you, and therefore, you understand completely what it is like," she remarked, and the offhand comment poked him unexpectedly in a place that ached. "Goodnight, Severus. It has been a lovely evening, and I thank you."

* * *

Author's Notes: As usual, major thanks go to my fabulous beta reader, Clara Minutes. 

I haven't updated in much longer than usual, but I've finished my semester with highest marks. Now, I've got a little free time, but I've got to write my thesis.


	42. Their First Date

**Chapter 41: Their First Date**

The extraordinary good luck of running into Marin Venier didn't extend to the job search. Remus didn't get the position in the book shop and had no better success finding work for several days. Setting aside his worries, he decided to do something proactive. Not having an owl of his own, he spent a few sickles sending an owl to Calyxa, but it was worth it: she agreed to the date. After that, his luck did change for the better. Two days before Christmas, he received a strangely formal letter from a baker's wife in London.

_To Professor Lupin,_

_I am wife of Pioggia the baker. Forgive my poor English. Our illustrious benefactor says you were the teacher ouf our Countess when she was a child. He has recommended you as a superior teacher four our children. The eldest is now nine year of old and will go to the Hogwarts School in fewer than two years._

_Please, will you consider teaching our children English and magic so they can enter school without some problems._

_May the Goddess smile upon you,  
Ornella Pioggia_

It had made Remus smile. Illustrious benefactor? They had to mean Marin Venier, he knew, for Calyxa's brother had a strong wish to help her by helping Remus.

He sent an immediate reply with their own, asking when he could come to meet with them, and they asked him to come at any time the next day, Christmas Eve. And so, he gained a job, a teaching job. It was only part time, but it would be enough to survive. Besides, it was what he loved to do.

He had started the lessons on Christmas Day, which wasn't a holiday for the Janarra since they celebrated the Winter Solstice. The Pioggias' children, a boy and two girls, turned out to be typical students, neither overly mischievous nor unusually gifted. The Pioggias paid him a fair rate and sent him home with a bulky package of freshly baked savory treats and breads. With a little bit of meat and some of the veg that the grocer was about to toss away, he was able to make himself a feast at dinner with leftovers for the following day.

There was no lesson on Tuesday, so he spent most of the day cleaning up and making some repairs at home and putting his nervous energy to good use. At exactly half past seven in the evening, he Apparated outside Calyxa's house. It was already completely dark, which was no surprise at this time of the year. It was also cold and windy, but he hardly noticed. He was cold with anxiety about finally seeing Calyxa again and attempting to date her properly.

Gathering his courage with one deep breath, he went up to the front door and rapped the door knocker. Calyxa called something indistinct from within the house, and the door was answered by little Gocciolina. "Good evening, Professor," she greeted. "Countess is getting the cloak. Please step inside."

"Thank you." Remus entered the hall. It was strange to be here again after so many months had passed. He recalled his exhaustion and mixed feelings upon his first arrival; he also recalled, with painful clarity, the circumstances surrounding his last departure.

"Remus," Calyxa murmured as she entered the hall. She was pulling a heavy, fur-lined cloak onto her shoulders; however, she stopped and smiled at him.

_Gods and goddesses_, he thought, for she was wearing rather low-cut blue robes and her lovely dark hair was worn down, for a change. He had to swallow as he stared at her, for she was lovelier and sexier than he remembered. Then he considered that she had made herself look pretty for _him_, and his heart flipped upside down.

She came over to embrace him and press kisses onto both of his cheeks, so he raised his hands to her arms. Different emotions surged through him. She was as delicate and vulnerable as ever, which roused a strong protective instinct; she was so soft, fragrant, and lovely that powerful desire accompanied his deep tenderness

"It's wonderful to see you," he told her as she drew back.

"And you as well." She stood still and gazed at him with her eyes warm and soft.

He smiled at her, feeling a bit of awkwardness mixed in with his happiness and sharp physical hunger for her. Rather too quickly, he said, "Shall we go?"

"Certainly," she agreed, fastening the clasps on her cloak.

They both Apparated to a little lane off one of London's high streets, and Remus led her to the little Italian restaurant where Marin had made arrangements for them to dine.

"I'm sure you've been here before," he remarked, glad his voice didn't flutter.

"Yes, it is owned by Janarra," she said, sounding pleased.

He wondered if Marin had told her that he was paying. Knowing them and their family, he didn't think so, nor did he think it would matter, but he had to be sure. "Did Marin tell you that he ran into me the other day?"

"No, but Borodin did." As usual when talking about her former husband, she sounded slightly annoyed. "He tried to bait and torment me, but I refused to play his silly game, so I had to ask Marin what had occurred."

Knowing that Marin would not lie under direct questioning, Remus supposed that Calyxa had learned all. He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, but he felt a familiar sense of shame and helplessness. _She doesn't care_, he repeated to himself, but the truth was that _he_ cared.

After opening the door and holding it for Calyxa, he followed her through a dark vestibule and then into the restaurant. A large fireplace along the far wall provided much of the illumination for the rooms along with candles on the tables. The effect of the wooden walls and deep red tablecloths was dark and romantic, Remus thought. Several shadowy couples sat in the warm darkness, some holding hands. _That will be us shortly_, he told himself with a little smile.

A second or two after they entered, a short, stout woman dressed in very formal, stiff taffeta robes came to greet them. She spoke in quick, excited Italian words that he didn't understand. Calyxa allowed the woman to kiss her hand, and she spoke many soft words in response. The other woman called back through a swinging door to the kitchen, and after a moment, four children hurtled through the door.

In the ensuing madness, Remus could only stand and watch in shock. Calyxa laughed and placed her hands on the shoulders and backs of the children while speaking some sort of incantation in Italian. A tall man in a chef's apron followed the children, leading an ancient little woman whose crooked spine kept her bent almost doubled over.

Each of the children kissed Calyxa's hand before returning to the kitchen. The very old woman attempted to kneel down, and the man assisted her in grasping the hem of Calyxa's cloak to kiss. Remus watched in bemusement, feeling out of place and uncertain of what to do, as Calyxa stood still and waited for the man to help the old woman to stand up; then, she grasped the woman's gnarled hands and bent down to speak quietly with her. They spoke together for a few minutes before the old woman turned away and hobbled back through the swinging doors.

"Mrs. Contarini, this is Professor Lupin," she introduced to the stout woman who was now taking their cloaks.

"It's a pleasure, ma'am," said Remus with a smile.

"Lupin?" asked the woman in taffeta with a frown. "Professor Lupin?"

The reaction put Remus on guard immediately. _Not tonight_, he entreated silently. He wouldn't be able to bear being humiliated in front of Calyxa, not on their first date.

"Yes," agreed Calyxa, but she cast a questioning glance at Remus when he did not reply.

"But… you are now teaching the children of Ornella Pioggia?"

"The baker's wife?" asked Calyxa with surprise in her voice.

"Yes," he replied. "I started only a few days ago."

"Well, perhaps you have time for our children as well?" Mrs. Contarini appeared quite anxious.

"Why… of course." _Another_ teaching job in the same week?

"You have time?" she asked with a hopeful expression in her eyes.

"Yes. I've recently left my former position, so I'm taking new students."

With a broad smile, Mrs. Contarini ushered them to a table while muttering a steady stream of Italian. "It is an answer to our prayers," she told them in English when they were seated. "Professor, can you come here to start teaching?"

"Of course," he replied, smiling. "Is Thursday afternoon acceptable?"

"Thursday?" the woman repeated. "Thursday afternoon? Yes. Yes, yes, _certainly_. Thank you, Professor. Thank you." She squeezed his hand before hurrying back to the kitchen.

"I did not know that you were teaching the Pioggias." Calyxa looked fondly at him once the other woman was gone.

"I only started a few days ago." He reached to take hold of her hand, which was small, soft, and a little cold. _Cold hands, warm heart_, his mum always used to say. "I suppose there's no English menu here and you'll have to translate for me."

She smiled and shook her head as her fingers stroked his. "No menu at all. We eat whatever Mr. Contarini has made today."

His thumb caressed the back of her hand, and he smiled as well. "I've got no problem with that."

"But tell me how you came to be teaching the Pioggias," she went on. "I suppose that you must have been set up – "

The arrival of the waiter with two glasses and a bottle of wine forced them to release the other's hand and sit back until he had poured both of their glasses.

"Let us drink a toast," she said as she took up her glass. "To us, for I have never had a better friend."

It was a tame enough toast to start off the evening, Remus thought. "To us." He lifted his glass before taking a sip. "That's lovely."

"It is Umbrian wine," she told him without pausing to think. "But now, please tell me all about your new students."

"They sent me an owl last week," he explained. "It said that they really needed someone to get their kids ready for Hogwarts."

She nodded to indicate that she understood; however, her brows drew together. "Did you know that Mrs. Pioggia's brother is a werewolf?"

Remus's mouth opened, and he blinked. "He is? No, I didn't know."

Calyxa nodded again. "It is not commonly known. He left Italy many years go because he believed that his family was better off without him. Apparently, he sends periodic owls to let them know he is well, but the family has not seen him in all that time."

The news overwhelmed and saddened him. "I'm sorry to hear that," he sighed.

"You may be certain, though, that she will attempt to overprotect you like a mother with a sickly child. If you can stand it, there will be no problem of being expected to work during the full moon, you see. Although all aspects of the moon are sacred, it is when most Janarra celebrate a monthly ritual."

Although the thought of Mrs. Pioggia trying to mother him filled him with dread, everything else about this job was sounding better and better. "Do you think your brother will have told her what I am?"

"Marin?" she asked in puzzlement. "What has he to do with it?"

"He's the one who recommended me to them," he explained. "Mrs. Pioggia mentioned their illustrious benefactor, so I assumed it was him."

"Not Marin, for the Pioggias are Tuscan," she informed him. "Their benefactor is Borodin, who must have recommended you for his own selfish reasons and most certainly confided in them before the fact."

* * *

With Calyxa's hand tucked in the crook of his arm, Remus strolled with her up the little lane to her house, shared only with the house-elf, Gocciolina, since Amanita and Mrs. Chalaza were with Prince Borodin. Although not late, it was Tuesday, and he actually had a job to go to in the morning, he thought with a grin.

Despite the shock of discovering that Prince Borodin, and not Marin Venier, had helped him to find the position teaching the Pioggia children, their date had been lovely. The familiar old warmth and companionship had filled the evening with delicate magic, and he had found talking to her as easy as ever.

"I can't remember ever having such a nice time out on a Tuesday," he told her in a warm, gentle voice.

She laughed a little. "I suppose you usually go out socially at the weekend."

"I rarely go out at all," he admitted with a laugh of his own, but his heart was racing with the excitement of what he was about to say. "But if you're free this weekend, perhaps you'll come over for dinner. To my place. Saturday?" He tried not to sound too hopeful.

"Does that mean that you are going to prepare a meal?" she teased. "I would enjoy that, and Saturday suits me just fine."

"Then come at half-seven, if that's convenient," he suggested, for it was the same time that they used to meet the previous year when they had sat together in his room after dinner at Hogwarts.

"Perfect," she agreed.

No matter how slowly they walked, they had to reach the front door, and it was too soon for Remus. He had promised himself that he would not make any overture towards her on their first date, he reminded himself as he turned to face her as she withdrew her hand from his arm. "I'll see you on Saturday," he told her in a voice that he hoped was steady. Whatever she said in reply, he was going to kiss her.

"I shall look forward to it," she said, smiling up at him with an open, adoring expression that squeezed his heart.

It was now or never. He put his arms around her rather quickly and awkwardly because he was terribly nervous, but she must have been expecting it, because she returned the embrace and turned her face up to be kissed. Although he was trying to keep his emotions under some control, he found that the first little taste was a bit overwhelming, and he kissed her harder than he had intended, crushing her against his chest with his arms tight around her.

She gasped a little and shifted in the constricting embrace. Suddenly realizing that he was not controlling himself and that he was probably hurting her, he stopped and loosened his hold on her.

"Sorry," he said in a breathless voice, holding her gently now.

She was still holding him around the shoulders, and her fingers played with the back of his hair. "Try it again," she murmured, nuzzling his neck. "A little slower."

He did as she asked, easing her back a little and kissing her much more gently. This time, she sighed, a satisfied sound, and rubbed against him with her whole body while she kissed him back, her mouth caressing his. He had to stop –_Now, Remus, or you'll regret it! _– and so he broke the kiss and just stood, holding her.

"I really do have to go." He had to whisper because his voice wasn't working correctly.

"Then go now," she said, drawing slightly back from him and looking up at him with a delicate look of soft ardor, "and I shall see you on Saturday."

He couldn't help touching her, stroking the side of her sweet, lovely face from her temple down to her jaw. He couldn't even feel the cold, and he knew he was going to have to get a tighter rein on himself before he saw her again. "Saturday, then." He let go of her. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Good night."

He waited until she was safely inside before turning and walking back down the lane. He still couldn't feel the cold, and he was drunk with the evening and all his emotions. "Stupid clumsy sod," he muttered aloud, for he had been worse than an eager teenager. She hadn't chastised him, she would never say anything against him like that, but he knew he couldn't lose control again.

* * *

Author's Notes: I've been waiting a long while for my beta to return this, but she's very busy, so I've gone over it very carefully and I'm submitting it as is. If you see an error, please let me know!


	43. At Remus's

**Chapter 42: At Remus's **

The warm, romantic relationship that was growing between Calyxa and Remus thrilled and confused her to varying degrees. They had immediately developed the routine of seeing each other every Saturday as a standing date. That quickly became twice a week, and now, they were spending four evenings per week together, and although she still went out socially, it was rarely with single wizards anymore. They dined together and chatted about their days, and the happy moments passed in quiet camaraderie. _Sweetheart_, Remus called her automatically, without thinking about it, which always made her feel giddy. Compared to her other relationships, she found the private evenings with him a cozy paradise.

Sometimes, he would come to her house, and Gocciolina prepared a hearty dinner for him even though Calyxa ate lightly in the evenings because she took her main meal at midday. Otherwise, Remus fashioned a meal out of what he called _scraps_ that his students' parents sent home with him, but which were really choice bits of food. It made Calyxa smile to think of it because he was overly thin for a man in his prime, and the winter was colder than usual. How irresistible it must be for the parents to attempt to feed him and fatten him up! And how ironic that Remus, who wanted to protect and care for everyone and everything, was the object of such concern.

After the evenings that they spent together, when he left, or when he took her home, he would kiss her goodnight, and those embraces often turned into long, heated exchanges under piles of winter clothes, either in her doorway or, more usually, in the frigid night air outside her front door. A few times, he even pushed her up against the wall and ran his hands over her while he kissed her goodnight, making her grow weak with excitement.

He always stopped, tore himself away, and made himself go home, which frustrated her. The truth was that she wanted more and knew that he did as well. Whatever reason he was waiting, denying himself, denying them both, she knew it wouldn't be long, for he was exhibiting all the signs of a man with a desperate need.

Although she was not in the habit of making advances towards wizards, she was considering taking matters into her own hands. In her experience, men needed little encouragement. Remus, though… she recalled how he had behaved as a boy, so careful and controlled, and how naively – and brazenly – she had attempted to seduce him. She hadn't even been sixteen, she recalled with a chuckle.

Many times had they laughed over the events of the past and even talked of sadness and sorrow and grief, but what they had not talked about was their broken engagement and their horribly truncated past and all the things that had conspired against them. No, they had not spoken of anything important, of anything that mattered. Not yet, but she knew that many things would have to be spoken aloud before their relationship could progress. Perhaps that was why he was waiting. Perhaps he needed to clear up everything that had hurt them in the past before moving into the present. Perhaps he had to exorcise his demons before he could allow himself to let go and enjoy being in love.

* * *

Always when she came to dinner, she brought him a little gift, usually wine or some kind of sweets for after their meal. This time, it was a bottle of well-aged brandy, and after dinner, Remus took it into the kitchen to open it and transform some glasses into proper brandy snifters. While she was waiting for him to return, Calyxa left the sofa and crackling fire in the lounge and went to unlock and open the front door and stand outside in the cold, still darkness. 

Her arms wrapped around herself against the chill and her face turned up towards the dark moon with a smile. The soft light of the stars was all that lit the garden, and peace filled her. With a certain few people, her own emotions sometimes interfered with her empathic senses. Time and familiarity faded the interference in most cases, such as with Borodin; however, she could not easily perceive Remus's feelings. Now though, she concentrated and let go of her own feelings so she could focus on his.

In the time of the dark moon, little effort was required because the Goddess turned the world to a point where secrets could be easily discerned. Being so open to him was exquisite, for although the results of the wolf bite had tortured him all his life, his feelings and emotions were sweet and comforting to her. She smiled and amended her thought, for he had become beautiful, as she had once told him, because of the troubles he had endured.

"My favorite time of the month," Remus said when he found her and came to hand her one of the glasses.

"Thank you." She held the glass in both hands to warm it and swirled the contents a little. "The dark moon is a time of ending and of beginning, like Yule." She hardly concentrated on what she was saying, for being this close to him while her senses were attuned to his feelings filled her with waves of exquisite sensations. "We call her _Umbrea_ in this aspect. She is the goddess of shadow, of secrets, of all that is unseen."

He took a sip of the brandy. "I like that goddess. She's very gentle."

"It is _Leukothea_ whom you dislike. She is wild, that lady, pulling on the seas and on our very blood. It was she whom I feared in my youth." She too sipped the amber liquid and sighed aloud in pleasure. "Ah, what a treasure."

Smiling, his eyes met hers, and she knew that his darkened eyes reflected an unsatisfied hunger. "It's cold here," he reminded, rubbing her upper arm with his free hand. "Shall I fetch your shawl?"

"No, thank you." The peace had settled upon her, but the touch of his hand upon her arm quickened her pulse, for he was not the only one who was unsatisfied. "Let us go back inside."

He closed and locked the door as she ensconced herself on the sofa, swirling the brandy in her glass. It was time for them to speak, and she would begin. She waited only until he had settled down near her facing her, his face mostly in shadow.

"I spent about six months with Elias Peschel," she began without prompting. "Although he was pleasant and handsome and I enjoyed his company, I knew he was not the man for me and soon left him. That was a short while before I came to Hogwarts. More than a year and a half ago. And there has been no one else since then."

The way he was turned, his eyes were still shadowed, but she didn't need to see his expression to know what he was feeling. "It's been far longer for me," he admitted, "since I was with another woman."

She smiled a little, for she had known, or suspected, as much although hearing the truth pleased and relieved her. "The only thing that Borodin told me about your luncheon with him was that you were not sure I was finished with Elias. I want you to know the truth. All the truth."

He nodded slowly, and she could feel how his insides twisted as he considered what to say. "They – that is, Marin and he – they told me that I should ask you about the Winter Solstice celebration I went to back when we were in school. They – he said that no one could tell what I was."

It took her a moment to understand what he meant. "Yes, you are right. I knew nothing of it until months later, but my mother used some very delicate magic to shield that part of you. Had she not, the Janarra who were in the regular habit of practicing Lunar Magic would have recognized it."

At this, his feelings twisted again, but there was a warm glow of affection towards her mother along with a powerful, icy fear closing its fist around his heart. "She knew we were engaged?'

"Yes," she told him honestly. "It eased her last days and made her very happy and serene."

The next sentence proved to be difficult for him to ask. "Did she know about my letter? That I broke up with you?"

"No. She went to Jana before that." The pain of those long ago days was now only a dull ache within her; however, it made sensing him more difficult. She had to look at him with her eyes.

His sigh of relief seemed mixed in with guilt and regret, and there was still that pain twisting inside him like a knife's blade in a wound. His eyes, his expression, were full of regret and grief. "Can you forgive a boy's stupid mistake after all these years?" he finally asked.

She blinked, surprised, and Sirius's remarks returned to her. He had been so certain that Remus hadn't found a new girlfriend. "Tell me what happened."

"Well." Remus scratched his chin. "You'll recall how different things were when you were a girl." He stood up and walked over to the fire, where he stood in profile to her. "As for me, I was just a boy, and I had no one to talk to who could relate to what I was going through. It's hard enough being a teenager, but the changes were happening to the wolf as well."

It was something she had never considered. The maturing of the wolf must have had a profound effect on the development of the man.

"Before I told you my secret, at first I was really terrified that you'd find out and be disgusted or afraid." He spoke slowly, recalling. "You see, you didn't like Sirius or James. You liked me. It was something new, and I couldn't do anything to ruin it." He smiled at the memory, his mind far away. "As I got to know you better, it seemed unlikely that it would matter to you that I was a monster once a month, and the way you could handle the moon, pull it down and draw it inside you… You had a way of talking in those days that half convinced me that if you and I just set our minds to it, we could cure it."

She smiled. "We still can."

He smiled as well, but it was a bitter, regretful thing. "I knew then that you'd find your answers one way or the other, but I didn't know how extraordinary that made you."

Calyxa said nothing as Remus raked his fingers through his hair. He paced to the bookcase on the far wall and absentmindedly examined a petrified snakeskin.

"You remember our show-stopping Charms project," he began slowly. "You know that the other Ravenclaws were a bit too interested in what secrets we were planning. I think that even then they sensed what you were capable of …" He trailed off and stopped. "It wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't liked me the way that you did."

"What was so bad?"

Remus sighed and set down the snakeskin. "It was awkward saying goodnight. I always wanted to kiss you, and you had a way of looking like you knew what I was thinking." He swallowed. "That night when you first came back from the winter break and showed me the memories of kissing Sirius, these… _feelings_ were coming out of nowhere. I mean, I had been noticing girls for a while and talked a bit with my father about those intense physical feelings that boys get at that age, but then the wolf woke up and caught your scent and wanted to – to mate with you. I think that I was falling in love with you, and that had translated to the wolf that this was his female." He didn't look at her. "And your scent was…" He sighed in exasperation. "You had the scent of a female who wanted to mate as well."

"I can imagine," she said, for he had been the first man to make her feel that way.

"I was sixteen, and there I was having these terrible feelings for you. I – Remus – loved you, but the wolf wanted his mate and –" He closed his eyes. Recalling those days and the frightening intensity of his feelings made him shiver. "And I didn't think he would bother with anything as civilized at your consent no matter what I wanted."

Was that it? Calyxa studied him for a long time with a frown. It made sense, perfect sense. Perfect, sad, ironic sense. He had wanted to protect her, as always, but this time, he had wanted to protect her from _himself_. She understood, but what a terrible, tragic waste to have lied and ended their engagement and their life together over something like this.

What to say? There was no comfort to be had for either of them. Nothing could undo what had occurred, nothing could change the past. Only one thing remained, and that was to acknowledge the past and embrace the present. There was no other way to live.

"In the years that have passed since then, has anything happened to make you think that perhaps you could have hurt me? Or forced me?"

Remus shook his head. "No." He returned to the sofa and again sat beside her. "Nothing, thankfully."

Ironic. She could have told him the same thing seventeen years ago. Of course, she knew very well the frightening power of such hunger in children as they became adults. Despite her own struggles with her burgeoning sexuality, she had at least had the knowledge that she was quite like her mother and thus knew what to expect. Remus had not enjoyed such comforting knowledge. Everything had been uncharted territory as the boy became a man and his cub became a wolf.

"Nearly seventeen years have passed," she reminded. "Some of it was wasted in fear and despair, but much of it was useful. The truth is that we might all be dead tomorrow, and I refuse to waste one more fraction of my life. No, from now until I leave the confines of this world and join Jana in the Other Realm, I shall leave an honest life." She was forced to laugh. "I mean, I shall _live_ an honest life."

He had to smile as well. "I truly admire you." Then he met her eyes. "Please forgive me. I've regretted it all my life."

"There is nothing to forgive." He must realize that there was no blame, and that even if there were, it would not change anything. "What has passed was unfortunate. Now I think we understand each other."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I believe we do."

Calyxa looked at him to assess his mood and state. They had drunk wine and brandy, and he looked flushed and relaxed. With the intimacy of the truth that they had just shared, everything was tender between them.

Shifting a little, Remus slid over very close beside her and embraced her with one arm, pulling her against him.

She laughed a little and put her arm around his shoulders. "This is nice."

He rubbed her back gently and pressed a kiss upon her neck, making her sigh. "Very nice." He kissed her neck again and then her ear.

"You still smell wonderful," she murmured.

"Still," he echoed with a chuckle before pressing a soft kiss upon her mouth.

Both his arms were around her now, and she could feel her heartbeat increase as the kiss lingered. His mouth moved to her ear, and he nibbled on her earlobe, slow, little nibbles that made her groan a little in her throat.

"Enough of this," he said, straightening up and looking into her eyes. "Come to bed, sweetheart."

Her heart gave a leap, and her breath caught in her throat. Despite his gentleness, the words, the attitude, the command and authority in his voice startled and excited her. As she had once remarked, all men were wolves to varying degrees, but this, this was her gentle, forceful wolf. Oh, yes, this was her Remus, her soft-hearted wolf. Unable to speak, she nodded, wide- eyed, and went with him.

* * *

Acknowledgments:  
Thanks to my glorious betas, Clara Minutes and Phoenix. Glad to have both of these ladies back! 


	44. After Seventeen Years

**Chapter 43: After Seventeen Years**

"_Lumos._"

For a brief and shameful moment, all that Remus saw in the dim light of his solitary candle was how lovely and elegant Calyxa looked in his impoverished bedroom with the scuffed furniture, faded wallpaper, and well-worn bedding. Immediately after that, however, she smiled at him with the heat of love and desire in her eyes, and he knew that such things escaped her notice, for she focused on far more important things. Right now, her round, dark eyes were looking at him as that exquisite smile lit her face. She was looking at _him_, not at his threadbare robes or graying hair or second-hand furniture.

He let his eyes travel over her in slow admiration. "Do you know what I'm going to do?" he asked in a low voice.

She shook her head, and she seemed to be breathing faster. "Tell me," she said with a quiver.

"I'm going to take off your robes," he nearly growled. "All of them. So I can look at you and touch you all over."

Her pupils dilated. She looked surprised, excited, and very turned on, but she also laughed a little and softened at his use of her words.

"And all I want to hear you say is 'Yes, Remus,' or 'More, Remus'," he went on. "Okay?"

She laughed again, but this time she sounded breathless. "Yes, Remus," she murmured. She was still holding her brandy glass and took several rather large sips before handing it to him. He finished the rest of the glass in one gulp and set it on the nightstand before turning back to her with a wicked glint in his eyes.

His hands settled on her hips and traveled slowly up her back, pulling her ever-nearer as they kissed. Her skillful teasing kisses had frustrated him for weeks: now, _he_ was running the show, and his tongue explored the sweetness of her mouth. The feel of her, the taste, the scent, was maddening, overpowering. Having his tongue inside her mouth excited him more than anything before in his life – _inside her_, he thought wildly. So many sensations were overloading his brain that he was only dimly aware that she was moving, shifting a little.

She eased back a little from him and her robes slid down to the floor followed by a long-sleeved underdress. Her nimble fingers charmed out her hair clip and Remus gazed at her, so soft and curvy in a blue slip with her dark hair hanging tousled over her bare shoulders and arms. _She's mine_, he told himself with a smug possessiveness as he took her in his arms again, burying his face against her neck, inhaling her scent and his hands sliding over her lush, silk-covered curves and luxurious hair.

So warm, so fragrant – he could hardly think. Somehow, she had unfastened the front of his robes and the shirt he wore underneath and pushed them wide open to his shoulders – maybe she had used a silent spell – and now her fingers were brushing over his chest, tracing his scars. Then she was nuzzling the little patch of hair on his chest, and then her tongue circled teasingly around a nipple.

Unable to move lest she stop, he stopped breathing, he stopped thinking. No one had ever touched him this way; he had never realized what a powerful sensation it was. One of her hands slid over his waist and belly, and he realized that he very easily could ruin a lifetime of fantasy by spilling his seed before he even had his clothes off. Too experienced, she was, but not used to men who had been celibate for a long while. Right away, he shifted his grip to her entirely too soft and sensuous hands. "Let me do that, sweetheart."

"Yes, Remus," she teased in a throaty voice, slipping from his grasp to sit down upon the bed and take off her stockings. For a few gorgeous seconds, he watched, glutting his senses on the sight of the fluid silk sliding down her white thighs. He had to force his eyes away from the entrancing sight just to retain control of himself, and then he filled his mind with other thoughts.

_At least everything's clean_, he thought as he shrugged off his robes, kicked off shoes, and unfastened his trousers. He had formed the habit of doing his washing on Saturdays when they had dates. Just in case. The result was that the bed linens, worn as they were, were always freshly laundered whenever he came alone to bed after taking her home.

Now in just his plain cotton shorts and patched shirt with the frayed collar, he felt far too thin and bony, too grey, and not nearly good enough by far for her. He sent a little prayer to the gentle goddess of the new moon that Calyxa wouldn't notice, wouldn't care. He knew she wouldn't, of course, she didn't have the same base motivations as he did, fixated on the visual.

Her white skin and the dark blue silk looked rich and luxurious against his faded beige and brown striped sheets and pillows but strangely not out of place. _No_, he thought with a deep, primal sense of satisfaction. _She belongs here. She belongs to _me. _In my bed_. It was a powerful feeling of love and possessiveness. He had not had a girlfriend in a while, and he had never brought one here. All his experiences had taken place on their terms and in their territory.

He reminded himself to go slowly as he sat beside her and leaned to kiss her while, with careful fingers, sliding the straps down off her shoulders and then letting the blue silk fall down to her waist. His hand brushed the soft warmth of her breast and his thumb grazed the pretty, pink bud of her nipple. She sighed in pleasure, and he had to force himself to remember to breathe.

His head bent and his mouth caressed her nipple, drawing a sharp gasp from her. Her hand was on his head, pushing his hair back, and as he sucked harder on her nipple, she moaned, "Remus." His other hand slid down over her silk clad hip and thigh to find the hem of her slip, and she was helping him, moving her leg, guiding his hand. As his fingers slipped insider her knickers, she arched her back. "Remus… please…"

That was enough for him. With one muttered spell that young schoolboys learned from the older ones, he divested her of slip and knickers and himself of his shirt and shorts. She giggled and wriggled, but he took hold of her and settled her on her back as gently as he could, holding her still while he climbed on top of her. Her hands were helping him and stroking his chest and arms at the same time; he was too excited to care about much else because he could feel her silken inner thighs against his hips and then her soft, little fingers reaching to guide him inside her.

The sensation was far more intense than he had expected. With the three other women he had loved, it had never been anything like this. Nearly two years, she had said it had been since she had had a lover, and it seemed as though her body had to adjust to him. He could feel how her flesh relaxed and accommodated him.

His first awkward thrust was far less gentle than he had meant it to be, and with enormous self-control, he held himself very still, fearing that his dreadful inexperience must be obvious to her. He braced his weight on his forearms, looking down at her flushed face with half-closed eyes and moist little smile and the luxurious dark hair spread across the pillows. "Sorry. Did that hurt?" he asked in a strangled whisper, wondering if he should stop, pull out.

"No." Her hands were on his face, now, gently stroking back his hair, and she was smiling at him, hazy-eyed with desire. "Oh, Remus… it is lovely." Her right foot trailed up and down his spine from the shoulder blades to the middle of his back.

He was not going to last long, he knew, and he fervently hoped he didn't do anything else awkward or juvenile. The moment he had fantasized about for more than seventeen years was upon him, and he stared down at her beloved face. Her eyes were dark with pleasure, she smiled as if she were already in a state of bliss, and even though he knew she had not achieved a climax, he thought maybe she was. "This is what I want," she murmured, her hands running up and down his chest. She moved a little, rocking her hips against his and then back.

It was too much. With inarticulate grunts, he thrust into her again and again, gasping and unable to control himself, trying not to go too deep at first. He desperately tried to think of something unpleasant,_anything_ to help him last longer, but she was moving with him, helping him, stroking his chest and catching his nipple with the edge of her fingernail. This was all his erotic dreams come true, and all thoughts and memory of how delicate and fragile she was had evaporated. Small was his mate, and soft and fragrant, but she was a grown woman with the needs and appetites of an adult, and she urged him for more, harder, faster. He heard her gasp, "Oh, yes, Remus..."

A shock ran through him and he felt himself coming, spurting, burying his seed within his woman. Years of denial and frustration erupted as he let go and surrendered completely. "Calyxa," he groaned, feeling as if his very flesh and bones were melted with the catharsis. She was telling him to come, to come for her, that he was hers, and he abandoned himself in the overwhelming rush.

It took him several long minutes to recover, and he began nuzzling her neck and then pressing kisses on her face. She giggled and clasped him in her arms; her face was shining with joy and in that moment, she possessed him, totally and utterly. It was then that Remus saw that what he had heard all his life was true: being in love did make a difference.

He had fallen hard: there was no going back now. The lady knew him and _did not pity_ him and loved him. Loved _him_. Loved him because of the wolf, not in spite of it. Loved the man he had become because of the wolf.

Carefully, uncertain if she would be sore, he withdrew from her and lay beside her. When she curled against him, he shifted his arms to hold her. "I'm sorry," he finally said, trying to sound flippant but really feeling enormously vulnerable as well as embarrassed by his own juvenile actions. "Dreadfully out of practice, it seems."

"Not only you," she breathed as she nuzzled his shoulder and sighed in contentment.

Remus closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. He would rest a few minutes before starting again, for he had no intention of leaving her unsatisfied…

He hadn't realized he'd dozed until he came awake with a start. The candles had not burned down, so he had only slept for a short time, but Calyxa was gone.

He sat up quickly, and the bedcovers slipped down to his waist. Had she left? Gone home without saying goodbye? He looked around the room, and then the lady herself entered. Of course. Some women might posses the ability to abandon their lovers without a word, but she didn't.

Barefoot Calyxa wore his dressing gown, which had been hanging on a hook on the back of the door and carried a glass of water as she closed the door behind her. Seeing her that way flamed his desire, but almost as quickly, the memory of her wearing another man's dressing gown doused the flame. Intent on knowing the truth immediately and getting back to the business of loving his woman, he asked, "Do you remember the night last year when Sirius broke into Hogwarts?"

His voice startled her, for she hadn't yet realized he was awake. "Certainly." She came over and set her glass down on the nightstand and then sat beside him. Although she gazed at him with a soft smile that turned his insides to jelly, the strange question had obviously surprised her.

_Not exactly sweet pillow talk for new lovers_, he thought, but the subject was too important to abandon. He'd have to make good use of the talking time, so he reached to trail his fingers down her jaw and neck. "You were wearing a poor man's dressing gown," he went on. "Whose was it?"

"It was not a man's but rather a boy's." She sighed at his touch. "I had left my quarters wearing only my night robes, so Minerva asked one of the boys to let me wear his dressing gown."

"One of the boys," he repeated, vastly relieved, as his fingertips traced her collarbone. "The Gryffindor boys."

"It was George Weasley who lent it to me." She closed her eyes, smiling, as he pushed the dressing gown open to her right shoulder.

Excitement speared him, and relief. For so long, he had worried over who her lover was! Another misunderstanding on his part that had made him utterly miserable for more than a year. Now, he would make up for lost time. "Is there any reason for me to feel jealous?" He grasped her right arm with gentle firmness and slipped his other hand under her knees; with one swift motion, he slid her onto her back in the middle of the bed. He knew his voice had grown gruff, but he could smell his own scent on her, and it was driving him a bit mad. Now, he wanted a taste.

"Jealous?" she laughed and gasped as he guided her knees apart and trailed his tongue up along her inner thigh. "Oh! _Remus! _" She sounded almost as if she were choking to draw a breath as he began to lick her swollen folds of flesh. "_Yes_… Remus," was all she managed to get out.

* * *

Sometime in the middle of the night, Remus woke from a deep sleep. For a second, he was slightly disoriented. He was in his own familiar bed in his own room, but his senses were filled with the scent of his mate, and a warm, soft, little woman was sleeping in his arms. 

Calyxa.

The memory came back in a warm rush. His earlier catnap has sufficed, for he had woken ready for another go, and Calyxa had certainly appreciated his efforts. Three times he had made her come before he was finished and exhaustion took them both.

Something had happened the final time. He had been sitting up against the pillows, and she was astride him, gazing into his eyes as they neared the point of orgasm: he delayed, holding himself in check until she was ready. And then, at the moment of climax, everything in the universe opened to him. He had been able to see inside her and feel everything she felt. Probably the same thing that all Janarra sensed, but it was more than that.

He could see her and inside her and feel what she felt, and they were united in more than body, they were indistinguishable. More, an immense knowing filled him – them – or maybe _they_ filled _it_. All at once, everything in the world made perfect, obvious sense. _Of course_, he thought as the whole universe resided in them, for what had gone before, most of his life, had been sleepwalking, had been a shadow of this, this sensation of remembering something important that had always been with them although not in the conscious mind.

Of what occurred afterwards, he had no recollection, and now they lay in the depths of utter contentment and exhaustion. Somehow, he knew that he had experienced the most ancient and powerful magic that existed, and he wondered if it was something she had done. More likely, they had done it together. He would have to ask her.

Now, holding her this way, like a trusted lover – he _was_ a trusted lover, he realized, smiling in the dark as he tightened his arms around her. Never in his memory had he felt such contentment.

A thought occurred to him. Had he closed the door? He could not recall. All he remembered was leading her up the stairs. Easing himself from her, he slipped out of bed and fetched his dressing gown from where he had cast it on the floor, wrapped it around himself, and tied the belt before taking up her nearly empty glass of water and going down to check.

He need not have bothered. All the doors were closed and locked, everything was safe. His home was comfortable and secure for his woman, his den was a safe place for his sleeping mate. Drifting about the house, he made certain that everything was in order, and then he got some more water, thinking that his woman was sleeping safe and secure upstairs in his bed.

In his bed.

Quickly, he made his way back up the stairs. In the doorway to his room, he stopped, holding the glass of water and staring at her. His soft curved woman, his fragrant, delicate little witch. Brilliant, vulnerable – his.

After setting the glass down, he tossed his dressing gown onto the foot of the bed and slipped under the covers. She did not stir and he reached to stroke a thick strand of hair off her face. Sighing happily, he shifted and lay next to her.

* * *

Acknowledgments: As usual, thanks to the fabulous Clara Minutes. 


	45. Settling In

Warning: Mild bondage.

* * *

**Chapter 44: Settling In**

When Calyxa awoke one early morning to the heavy patter of rain on the windows, she curled closer to Remus for warmth. The slow rise and fall of his breaths along with his wonderful, familiar scent reassured her. She decided to stay in bed for another thirty minutes, and she luxuriated in the dark warmth. Something about a sleeping man, her sleeping Remus, made him seem extraordinarily soft and vulnerable.

As with all people who woke naturally in the morning, she slept much longer in the winter that she did in the summer. The days were noticeably longer now even though the weather had not improved much and she found herself waking a little earlier each day.

The first weekend they spent mostly in his bed until Monday morning, when he had to go to work. She went to dine with him and spend every night with him until Friday, when she had a social engagement. On Saturday, he came to her house for dinner, and although she did everything she could to make him feel at home, he seemed far less comfortable there than he did at his own place. One was always at the most ease on familiar ground, she knew. For a man as dominant and possessive as Remus, it was much more than that. The feelings she could perceive were powerful and overwhelming, and although she desired strongly to put him at ease, she also realized how much he appreciated the filling dinners that Gocciolina prepared when he came to her house.

One of the first things he had done was to buy her a lady's dressing gown to wear at his house, a lavender satin dressing gown with soft, white flannel lining to keep her warm. It was a size too small for her, but Calyxa said nothing and employed Gocciolina to use an altering charm so that it fit better. She was just glad he had mistaken her as being slimmer than she actually was! If the garment had been a size too large instead, she would not have liked it.

Darling Remus. Although he was not the first man she had known who was overly possessive, she found it somewhat charming to observe the intensity of his feelings. She supposed that the long loneliness of his adult life as a social outcast had caused him to retain such emotional immaturity. However, the childish trait was no worse than that of other men, she reasoned: it just made him seem irresistibly vulnerable to her.

On the other hand, the idea of making love while she was menstruating had repelled many men she had known. Not so Remus. Although she was usually too sensitive and uncomfortable to be touched on the first day or two, Remus wasn't afraid of a little blood. It was the mark of a mature man, she knew, but coupled with the juvenile possessiveness, she wondered what the wolf's influence had to do with all of this.

Another thing she realized immediately was that he was enormously dominant. That, too, was nothing new, and she had no problem with playing the role of the submissive female. In fact, anything she did that seemed even remotely submissive aroused him tremendously, which she liked a lot.

Within a few days, she also realized that Borodin's teasing words had been the truth: Remus was a voyeur. Although he had a keenly developed sense of smell, it seemed to her that _seeing_ aroused him even more than _doing_. During the first few weeks, she could only wonder what his fetish might mean for the future; she hoped that he didn't crave anything dangerous or that involved any kind of pain.

* * *

One evening, after quite a nice dinner at his house, they sat with their wine glasses in the lounge, Calyxa reached out her hand and brushed her fingertips against his inner wrist. "My love, what is the possibility of you surrendering to me and doing everything that I say?" she asked in a soft purr of a voice.

He chuckled, but every nerve in his body tingled in excitement. "I'd say the possibility is excellent." He watched the way her fingers stroked his pale skin.

"I hoped you would say that." With her one free hand, she now reached to open his collar. The delicate fingertips brushed over his throat. "I would like you to come with me now."

He licked his dry lips. "Yes, ma'am," he replied in a hoarse whisper.

When she rose, he leapt up to follow her. Calyxa moved slowly, sipping her wine as she led him to the stairs and up to the dark bedroom. Her unusual behavior was fascinating, mesmerizing. His interest was definitely piqued, and he didn't mind relinquishing control one bit.

"Will you light the fire?" she asked, but he knew it was her way of giving a command.

"Sure." He took out his wand to start the fire while she closed the door.

Once he was done, she came over and grasped his wrist. "Let me take that away from you for a little while."

Startled, he looked at her in the flickering firelight to determine if she had meant it the way he thought she did. The wicked smile and glint in her eyes answered that question, and he suddenly couldn't get quite enough air into his lungs.

Slowly, she slid his wand out of his hand. "Anytime you wish to stop, all you need to do is tell me." She took his wand over to set it on the night stand on his side of the bed. "Anything other than that, I shall consider part of the game."

_Game?_ he thought with a wild mixture of excitement and apprehension. What did she intend to do? His mind considered the options, but there was nothing she was capable of doing to him that would make him want to stop.

"And now, you are to disrobe," she informed him.

She was waiting rather expectantly, so he rapidly cast off his robes. The fire had already warmed the room, and the flames cast reddish lights upon his pale, naked body. He wanted to put his arms around her. Hell, he wanted to strip her robes off and pull her up against him!

"Very good," she said with a smile. "And now, you are to lie down." She flicked her wand at the bed, and the covers peeled down to the foot of the mattress.

Feeling a bit exposed and vulnerable, for she was still fully dressed, he climbed onto the bed and lay back, turning his head to look at her.

Another flick of her wand – the naughty minx! – and he felt his wrists and his ankles being drawn gently out to the corners of the bed. And then he realized he was restrained by some invisible bonds, which he didn't like at all. "Hey," he complained struggling, feeling anxious and even a bit annoyed.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, coming closer. The expression on her face was hidden in the shadows, for her back was to the firelight; however, her voice was soft, concerned.

"No," he whispered, lying still.

"Good." Now, it was her turn to undress, and she did so with geological slowness. She watched him as he watched her, and Merlin, it was torture! Each piece of clothing was slipped off and set aside. Each hairpin was removed individually and set on the nightstand, and she slowly revealed herself to her captive.

Everything progressed, and Remus's excitement built with the suspense as he waited and watched. A few times he moved his arms and legs to test the strength of the bonds, but he was held fast. There was no getting free until she released him, and he wasn't going to do anything to stop her. He was anticipating what was going to happen too much to end it now.

Finally in only her pale, peach-colored slip, Calyxa came over and sat beside him. "Are you uncomfortable, my love?" she asked as she slowly stroked his arm from his elbow to his collarbone.

"Not really," he said honestly. "What are you going to do?"

She leaned to press a kiss upon his temple. "Enjoy you."

He struggled a little as she rubbed one of his nipples and kissed his ear and then his jaw. "Kiss me," he demanded.

"Not yet," she breathed as her enticing fingers slid down over his chest to his belly.

_Umbrea, help me!_ he thought, for he had come to depend on the goddess of the new moon. "Calyxa!" he muttered, squirming as her hand brushed over his hip to his thigh. "Suck me!"

She laughed softly. "Not yet."

The strange shadows cast by the fire seemed to move, and Remus thought they weren't alone. Strange figures seemed to gather, silent figures, and he was suddenly afraid. "No," he said forcefully, pulling hard on the bonds that held him.

Everything ceased. "Shall I stop?" Calyxa asked.

He was breathing very hard. "No," he whispered again.

"Close your eyes," she requested, and he did. She kissed each eyelid. "My love, I will not hurt you," she whispered.

"I know." He had to trust her, he knew, so he kept his eyes closed. "Enjoy me as long as you want," he offered.

"Good." Now, he could feel them – soft cool hands and warm, wet mouths. He knew in his heart that Calyxa would not bring anyone else here without discussing it with him, so these sensations had to be part of her magic.

Calyxa moved away from him. He knew her by scent and touch, and she was not near him. When he opened his eyes, he could see nothing other than shifting shadows and flickering light. The sensations he was feeling were everywhere, pushing him towards a powerful climax, and he heard himself moaning and saying, "Yes, yes," in a soft hiss. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts melt away as he enjoyed the feelings.

His breath was coming in gasps, and he was almost ready. On the brink, just about to come, it stopped. All the physical sensation stopped, and he cursed wildly. What kind of torture was this? To bring him to the edge and then stop?

Somewhere in the room, he heard Calyxa moan softly. He pulled hard on the bonds, but he could not break free. "God damn it, Calyxa, let me see you!" he growled, his own pleasure forgotten.

In the silence of the dark room, he heard her sigh and murmur again, and he pulled again at the invisible bonds. He knew that sound well enough, and he wanted to see her. If some of these magical shadows were touching her and making her come, he would rather watch than experience the same thing himself.

Just when he thought he was going to go mad, the shadows were upon him again. This time, his body responded far more eagerly. He had already been close to coming a few minutes ago, and the response was faster and more insistent this time.

"Yes," he muttered gruffly to the shadows. "Make me come." His own breathing and pounding heart was all he could hear, but he knew that Calyxa was enjoying something similar nearby. He would rather come for her than for these disembodied creatures. It seemed as if he had no choice, though, and he gave up thinking as the moment neared where he would reach an orgasm. Just a few seconds more.

He screamed in frustration when all sensation ceased a second time just at the point of release. What were they trying to do? Kill him? Drive him out of his mind? At that moment, he was willing to do almost anything for satisfaction.

"No more teasing," Calyxa whispered in his ear.

"Oh, Merlin!" He tried to put his arms around her, but he was still restrained. "Calyxa, _please_!" he begged.

"This is the last time." She was on top of him now, and he could feel her familiar soft fingers close around his poor, aching cock to guide him inside her. The sensations from the shadows continued, but this time Calyxa was riding him, leaning forward to kiss him and cover him with the familiar feel of her long hair brushing over him as she moved

"Please, please," he murmured mindlessly, for he had lost the ability for rational thought.

And then, suddenly, he was free, and he grasped her firmly by the hips as he dug his heels down into the mattress and drove up into her. On the cusp yet _again_, he felt the quivering moment when he was on the brink, and there was no stopping this time. The whole world seemed almost illuminated by brilliant light, and she was looking directly into his eyes with love and want, her face flushed with her own pleasure. He usually had to time things carefully to come at the same time as her, but tonight, she was in absolute control, and he didn't mind at all.

He was coming. He looked at her and loved her and could not think or speak as the most powerful climax of his life gripped his whole body. On and on it went, seeming to be infinite hours of release as he finally lost control.

Sometime later, he became aware of Calyxa cuddled under the covers with him. He felt weak and languid; some of his muscles were still trembling. He had no idea how long had passed. "Sweetheart," he murmured, kissing her hair.

"Are you all right?" she asked as she stroked his arm and chest.

"Yeah, though I think I'll need a day and a half to recover." He kissed her ear.

She laughed and buried her fingers in his hair. "I forgot to tell you: I shall go to visit my father's house for the Return of Spring. He has asked me to invite you to come as well."

He blinked. "Really?" It had been many years since he had seen Prince Alvise, and he liked the idea of being acknowledged as Calyxa's boyfriend, or lover, as they said.

"Would you be able to take a few days holiday from your students?"

He yawned. "I can't imagine my students' parents would mind if I went off on a holiday with their contessa."

She laughed. "They might attend the celebration themselves, you know."

He hadn't considered that possibility. "Then they certainly can't mind." He gathered her closed as he settled in for the night. "I'd like to go. It would be nice to see your father again."

"I am glad." She kissed him before settling more comfortably in his arms.

* * *

Thanks to my fabulous and very quick beta, Clara Minutes.


	46. The Return of Spring

**Chapter 45: The Return of Spring**

On the day that they went to Venice, Remus packed a few necessities in his battered briefcase before Apparating to Calyxa's house. Vaguely, he recalled the one time when the old contessa had still been alive; he had traveled with the Janarra to a celebration. At age sixteen, he had been overwhelmed by the whole experience, but he was now recalling bits and pieces of that event, such as Prince Alvise shrinking their luggage and using a special type of Janarra magic in place of a portkey.

When he arrived, he found a matched set of bags in the entrance hall, so he placed his old briefcase next to them. He grinned when he saw how battered his bag was next to hers, but deep inside him, he feared that the prince would be displeased to be reminded that his daughter was involved with a pauper, a nobody. Her brother might be able to overlook her choosing someone so obviously beneath her station, but Prince Alvise had only one daughter. A father had a right to want to see his little girl settled with a good wizard on whom she could depend.

With a deep sigh, he pushed these depressing thoughts away. The old contessa had approved of him, he told himself. "Calyxa?" he called, poking his head into the kitchen.

"Just a minute!" she called from upstairs, and a few seconds later, she Apparated with Gocciolina, who wore a heavy orange cloak to match her usual toga.

"Good afternoon." Calyxa embraced him and kissed him tenderly and then gazed at him with her face lit up with pleasure.

"Afternoon," he replied smiling and rubbing her upper arm affectionately.

"We had to find Gocciolina's cloak," she explained, "but now, we are ready."

"Is she coming with us?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, why not?"

He looked at the little House-elf. "Have you got relatives in Venice, Gocciolina?" Like most wizards, he had never thought about House-elves' families.

"Gocciolina's brother serves the house of Venier, Professor Lupin," she replied in her usual high-pitched, accented voice.

"If you are ready, we can go," said Calyxa. "Marin and Brigida will have a formal supper set to welcome us."

"I'm looking forward to it," he replied when in truth, he was filled with apprehension. On the other hand, Venice was one of the few cities in Europe where Muggles didn't look askance at wizarding robes, so he could look forward to something.  


"Okay." Raising her wand above her, she intoned the melodic words to an ancient spell in a language that was neither Italian nor Latin. She slowly drew her wand downward in an arc. A fissure appeared, and when her wand had reached the lowest point of its arc, it opened. Before them stood a portal filled with dark smoke.

Casting him a smile, Calyxa said, "Just step through," and then demonstrated by disappearing into the swirling smoke.

Remus hesitated for a second, and the House-elf spoke. "Gocciolina will bring the luggage, Professor Lupin," she told him.

He nodded. "Very well." With one stride, he entered the portal. There was a slight pressure as if an invisible force was pressing against him, but the resistance was slight, and he pushed past easily.

The other side left him in a wide hall of apricot and cream marble with colored glass chandeliers, several gilt mirrors, and elegantly carved wooden chairs set back against the walls. One of the tall doors at the far end of the room stood open, and the gauzy curtains billowed into the room with the evening breeze. Calyxa stood outside on a little balcony.

As he went to join her, he thought it was strange to think that this was the place she had lived as a child. Not that it didn't suit her, for it did. It was similar to what he had imagined for her childhood home. The strange thing for him was being here with her.

She turned and smiled at him when he joined her. The busy Grand Canal at dusk stretched out in front of them. The sight, the sound, the feel of the cool wind, the smooth marble balustrade under his hands, and the unusual smell of the sea, fresh flowers, and a tinge of refuse – all this overwhelmed him.

As usual, Calyxa understood and did not intrude on his thoughts. He stood there, wondering how different tourists' experiences were from his; he imagined crowds of weary, overwhelmed people trudging after their guides or crowding into expensive gondolas.

Here he was at Prince Alvise's house in Venice. At that moment, he recalled his long-ago words to her: _So, Remus Lupin, Commoner and Gryffindor prefect – how impressive – comes to Venice to pay court to Miss di Janarra. _

He turned to her. "Sweetheart, is there any kind of … royal etiquette or special protocol that I should follow. I mean, being a formal suitor and all that?"

"There is no need," she assured him. "My parents approved of you years ago. _Both_ of them." She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "No other wizard can claim that, you know."

Pleasant warmth spread through him and he couldn't help smiling. Knowing what he was, her parents had actually approved of him! It was hard to believe, but he knew it was true.  


A lovely, warm feeling of contentment lulled him with the sweetness of rest for one who is desperately weary. Besides his own parents, the only people who had ever accepted him without reserve, who had known what he was and accepted him anyway, had been Calyxa, his three friends at school, and the staff at Hogwarts. To that, he could add the late Contessa, Prince Alvise, and Marin. After he had broken up with Calyxa and lost his friends – James, Sirius, and Peter – he had very rarely enjoyed the luxury of friendship, even for a short time, and never found anyone to trust with his secret.

Every other person or group in his life had reviled him after discovering his secret. Childhood playmates, girlfriends he had yearned to trust, employers, acquaintances who could have become friends, coworkers – every single person he met had expelled him from closeness or even cordiality. Although he reasoned it was due to fear, he had struggled for many years without one person with whom to talk, without any human warmth or companionship. He could not even fit in to the outcast werewolves communities; he was trying to do something good with the dregs of his wasted life, and although he understood their bitterness and desire for revenge, it still appalled him.

Yes, the long years of isolation had taken an enormous toll. He had imagined he would always be alone, a solitary individual with no social relationship with anyone other than strangers. Then Dumbledore had contacted him. Of course, the old wizard had been motivated to prevent Sirius from getting to Harry rather than to aid Remus with a position and a place among people. But then, finding Calyxa again had been an answer to a prayer that he hadn't realized he had been saying.

Now, Calyxa's relatives accepted him despite everything. Marin and Prince Alvise did, and Remus knew that he would do just about anything to maintain their good relationship. Many, many times in the past, he had behaved stupidly in fear of losing what few people he had in his life. Although he couldn't imagine that either of these deeply religious Janarra men would do anything similar to the delinquent behavior that he and his friends had perpetrated when they were teenagers, Remus knew his loyalty to them bordered on desperation. He also knew weakness as a powerful addiction: he would do nothing to jeopardize their affection. He just hoped that he would never have to make such a decision.

* * *

As the Janarra set up tables and chairs under an enormous, white tent, Remus peered out into the soft sheen of rain in the broad, grassy meadow on the edge of a forest. He was wearing the excellent robes that Calyxa had given him for his birthday a few weeks earlier, good quality, slate blue robes that fit him loosely. He suspected that she wanted him to put on a little weight, which wasn't a bad idea, he knew.

Already, the Janarra were looking curiously at him and talking behind their hands. Because he didn't understand Italian, he had to imagine what they were saying. Years ago, Princess Peziza had secretly shielded the wolf inside him from knowing eyes. Calyxa's reissue of her mother's powerful spell protected his secret from the sight of the Janarra witches, which made Remus feel 

somewhat confident that they were not speaking of the werewolf among them.

"Will they still perform the ceremony out in the open?" he asked Marin as they walked through the tent to their places, for Calyxa had gone to prepare..

He looked out at the rain and then smiled. "The rain will clear up," he said as if he were stating a fact and not a forecast.

"It doesn't look like it will be ending any time soon," said Remus, frowning out into the greenish mist.

"The Ancient Ones will take care of it," Marin answered.

A few hundred people had gathered, and the ladies were all dressed in the soft pastel colors of spring. The men and boys wore darker robes in brown, green, or blue. Remus felt relieved that he had his good new robes, for they matched the quality of everyone else's. Except perhaps those of Prince Borodin's, he realized as that wizard arrived with his daughter and a pretty brunette witch.

Calyxa's former husband would be hard to miss anywhere, and Remus knew Amanita by sight; however, the woman was unfamiliar. "Lupin," said the prince with a nod.

"Good afternoon, Prince," He replied as they shook hands. "Amanita, it's lovely to see you again."

The child, adorable in her green robes, was taller than he remembered. It made sense, for nearly a year had passed since he had last seen her. She turned shyly away and hid her face in her father's robes.

"Even if you don't remember Professor Lupin, you must say hello," the prince told her in a firm but gentle voice.

One eye appeared, and then Amanita turned to face him with a smile. "Professor Lupin!" she exclaimed.

"I'm glad that you remember me," he said with a laugh.

She turned to her father and the dark-haired witch. "He can always make my Mamma smile and laugh, even when she's tired or cross."

The prince grinned while Remus and the woman laughed. "I can see why," she said warmly, which embarrassed Remus even more than Amanita's words. Her dark eyes had become soft and unfocused, and he knew that she was looking inside him.

"May I present Professor Lupin," Prince Borodin said elegantly to her. "This is Plautilla Giustizia."

The lady extended her hand. "I am honored to know you, Professor."

"The honor is all mine," he replied as he took her hand and bowed.

"You're looking exceptionally well, Lupin," said Borodin as his eyes flicked over the other wizard. "I seem to recall you were ill when we met last winter. It's good to see you've recovered."

"Thank you. I've been lucky since then," he said, looking directly into the prince's dark blue eyes.

Borodin nodded coolly, remarkably adept at casual indifference. "I am glad to see it, for it shall certainly reflect well on us all." Something caught his eye, then, and he frowned. "I fear I must excuse myself and take this young lady to Prince Alvise." He leaned down to kiss Signora Giustizia. "Until later, my dear." Then he nodded to Remus. "Lupin."

"Bye, Plautilla," called Amanita. "I'll see you later, Professor."

Left alone with the lady, who was obviously Prince Borodin's girlfriend, Remus sought a safe topic of conversation. "Will Signora Chalaza be attending?" he asked, for he liked and respected Amanita's old nanny.

"Yes, she will," Signora Giustizia replied with a smile, "but at such celebrations, she is free from responsibility for Amanita."

"Ah, excellent," he replied. "They are certainly lucky to have such a fine witch to take care of the girl."

"Good day, Mrs. Giustizia, Lupin," said a familiar, male voice, and Remus turned to see that Marin had joined them.

"Mr. Venier," she said, holding out her hand.

The Italian wizard took her hand and bowed. _Far more elegant than me, but not quite Prince Borodin_, thought Remus.

"I have not much time, but I would like to ask your help," he said to the lady. "Would you please stand with Professor Lupin and explain the ceremony in English?"

The woman grew pale. "I?" she asked in shock. "Should the honor not go to one of higher rank?"

Marin chuckled. "The Countess doesn't think so. However, many others do. If you would feel too uncomfortable, I'll ask someone else."

"Not at all, and I thank you for the honor."

"Thank you," he replied. "And, now, it's time to take our places."

"Of course. Professor Lupin, won't you please come this way?" she gestured towards the meadow outside the tent.

As he went with her, Remus tried to imagine why it was such an honor to translate the proceedings for him. Then he realized that everyone was making his or her way out onto the sodden meadow. The rain was still falling steadily, and Remus hated to get his new robes wet, especially since it was the first time he had worn them. He had no choice, though, so he went with Signora Giustizia.

She led him out to stand between Marin and Amanita. Everyone else seemed to know where to go as they formed a wide circle among the wildflowers and the grasses. Eventually, Calyxa made her way into the center of the circle. She wore exquisite, white silk robes, and her hair hung loose down her back. Like everyone else, though, she was getting wet.

Raising her arms, Calyxa began to chant in Italian. "She calls for Jana to come among us, joined by her late mother," Signora Giustizia told him on a low voice, "and to hasten Her, the old and powerful witches shall join in."

All around the circle, witches took several steps forward to form a smaller circle. The ladies ranged in age from teenagers to elderly crones hobbling on sticks, but as one, they turned and began walking around Calyxa like a wheel around a cog. As they walked, they chanted in Italian.

The spell sounded lovely, and to Remus's ears, it seemed almost like singing. Then they stopped walking and all turned to face the inside of the circle, chanting one phrase over and over. A strong wind sprang up, and to Remus's surprise, the clouds open up directly over head.

"They call for the Goddess to send away the rain and let us see the familiar star of our cousins, the Tanarra," explained Signora Giustizia.

He could see a wide patch of blue sky, and then the wind blew the clouds back from that center. Oddly, the wind seemed almost as if it generated from within the center of the circle, for it blew the clouds back in every direction at once. The rain ceased, the sun shone down upon them, and in that instant, they were all completely dry.

The impressive display of magic stunned Remus as he tried to imagine the difficulty of having so many witches working together and casting the spell simultaneously. Healers and Aurors often worked in tandem with two, or more rarely, three, people working together. The problem with timing precluded the combining of more than three spells. Nevertheless, here, about a hundred witches worked as one to stop the spring rain. While marveling at the achievement, Remus missed some of what Signora Giustizia said.

Calyxa was walking around the inner circle of witches as they chanted. "They asked Jana to come down and walk among us," murmured his interpreter.

The lovely sound of the women's chanting along with the sight of them in the pretty shades of spring moved Remus, and he couldn't help smiling in pleasure as he watched. At that point, Calyxa returned to the center of the circle, and the chanting stopped. Lifting her arms up over her head and turning her face upwards, she called out two or three sentences, and the familiar, silvery light illuminated her from within.

"Jana has come to the Countess," explained Signora Giustizia in a whisper. "And now she is the Goddess among us."

Exactly as she had appeared the previous summer, Calyxa was molten, a living flame. As a boy, he had seen her this way twice, but in those half-forgotten memories, he hadn't really understood what it meant. All he had thought was that the moon was inside her, but now he began to see that she represented their Goddess, who was the physical embodiment of the moon. No wonder he had felt such a strong magical pull towards the late contessa and now towards radiant Calyxa.

The witches of the inner circle returned to their original places among the others. The members of the main, outer circle began to move, and Amanita, who had stood quietly beside him until now turned to smile up at him. "You shall walk with me, Professor," she told him, and although she was only five years old, her similarities to the young Calyxa he had once known startled him.

"The Countess now embraces each of us," said Signora Giustizia as they followed Prince Alvise into the center of the circle.

He remembered this part. Prince Alvise, shrunken in age, said something that made his daughter laugh, and she hugged him affectionately while some of the liquid light flowed into him. He turned away walking more briskly and standing more upright, looking almost like a wizard half his age.

Amanita approached next, and Calyxa sank down onto one knee to hug the child, who then followed her grandfather back towards the tent.

Remus was next. Signora Giustizia gestured for him to step ahead, and he took several steps closer until he stood in front of Calyxa, who smiled up at him; the look on her face gave him the same ridiculous thrill as always.

But this was not just Calyxa. Looking into her eyes at that moment was like seeing every person he had known and loved; more than that, they were with him. He knew that his mother and father were there with him as was his grandmother, who had passed away when he was a small child. He could sense the presence of other friends long gone, even his dear friends James and Lily. So many years had passed since he had lost all these people! A lump rose in his throat, and he was afraid that tears would soon sting in his eyes.

When she hugged him, he returned the embrace with a strong squeeze, and the delicious, velvety warmth of the moon's magic flowed into him, melting both sorrow and physical discomfort. The tears leaked out before he realized what had happened, and when he loosened his arms, Calyxa kissed each wet cheek.  


The whole episode had taken less than two minutes, and he stepped back, gazing at her. Her smile was filled with the love of a woman for a man, yet it also held the limitless depth of the undying affection that the lost ones held for him and he for them.

The others were waiting. Smiling in peace and contentment, Remus walked to the tent where Amanita and Prince Alvise were waiting.

* * *

The usual thanks go to Clara Minutes for getting this back to me so quickly.


	47. One Too Many Witches

**Chapter 46: One Too Many Witches**

Remus spent the next several months in bliss. He had the Italian children to tutor, which brought in steady wages as well as a regular supply of good, nutritious food. Combined with the excellent meals provided by Gocciolina, he began to put on a little weight, which he needed. Soon, his robes no longer hung on him.

He had enough time to do some much needed work around the house. With a combination of muscle and magic, he repaired the leaky roof and the crumbling garden wall. Once those tasks were done, he set himself to cleaning out the contents of the house. Most of the items to be removed had belonged to his mother and father: clothes, books, and other personal items.

He was able to sell some of the clothes and books; that money went to buy fresh paint for the walls and two sets of new linens for the bed. As time passed, the little house became cleaner, neater, more sorted. More reflective of him. More worthy of a fine witch like Calyxa.

What he was doing was "nesting", preparing his home for his woman. Of course, her house was more comfortable and well-furnished, and there was the house-elf, of course. Something stubborn in him wanted her to come live with him. A ferocious possessive streak surfaced whenever she visited, ate his food, slept in his bed. In his mind, of course, he knew it didn't matter if he went to live at her house or she came to his. His deep emotional reaction to having her at his house, taking care of her at his house, was almost visceral. _It doesn't matter_, he occasionally told himself. _As long as we are together. _

A few pieces of jewelry had been left to him by his mother; he had not yet been hungry or desperate enough to sell it. Nearly. But no. He toyed with the idea of giving it to Calyxa, but he decided against it. Although each piece was valuable, he didn't think any of it suited Calyxa, so he left it in a jewelry box in a cupboard and delayed his decision for a while.

Amanita came back in early May. Calyxa had been looking forward to the child's return, so he was happy for her, but he had dreaded it in secret. After these months of bliss, the change could only be negative. He didn't begrudge Calyxa's love for her daughter or her attention to the little girl. All he knew was that things were going to change.

When he had a girlfriend, things always changed, but that was due to his condition and poverty. This time, things were different, and he had never known what it was like to live with such contentment. Of course, life consisted of more than Calyxa and his students, so it was a temporary paradise. _Things are definitely going to change_, he told himself with a sigh. For the first time in his adult life, he was happy, and he dreaded the changes that were coming. Of course he knew he was being selfish in the matter, for his behavior was like a sixteen-year-old boy who demanded the complete attention of his girlfriend. The past few months had spoiled him, and he forced himself to break the gossamer strands of entitlement that resented sharing Calyxa with her daughter.

In the end, however, things turned out to be not as bad as he had feared. He stayed at Calyxa's house most nights, and they settled into a charming life almost like a family. Thankfully, Amanita was permitted to call him Remus and not something like _uncle_; children calling their mothers' boyfriends by such a familiar title had always seemed indecent to him. Mrs. Chalaza and Gocciolina also accepted him into the house, and he settled into the rhythm of their life.

In addition, he took his mother's jewelry and sold it for the best price he could finagle, for he realized that he could just buy something that suited Calyxa with the sale price. All he needed was someone to help him pick something appropriate. Who should he ask? Not Prince Borodin. The prince would probably have been an excellent resource, but Remus would rather pick something awful than rely on him for something so personal. He thought of Brigida Venier. Although Calyxa's sister-in-law didn't approve of him the way her father and brother did, Remus thought she might agree to help out.

Towards the end of June, the Janarra celebrated the Summer Solstice. The full moon occurred the day before the Solstice, so Remus insisted on staying home until his transformation was over. Marin came to take him to the ceremony the following afternoon, and upon hearing that Remus wanted to buy a ring, he smiled and agreed that Brigida was the perfect person to help.

* * *

When she had heard Professor Lupin's request, Brigida Venier's heart had squeezed with compassion for the poor, clueless wizard with the appalling robes. All the while, however, she kept wondering how Calyxa could choose that wizard after eight years with Prince Borodin.

Of course, the Professor was a good man with sterling qualities developed over difficult and painful years. Calyxa, however, could have married any of half a dozen of the most eligible wizards in the world, any of whom would make an appropriate consort for the Contessa. And although she said nothing, Brigida thought that Marin was mistaken in thinking that the Professor would be accepted by the Janarra.

When she arrived at the meeting place, she saw him first and cringed at the darned robes with the threadbare cuffs. The man needed a haircut as well as the attentions of a comb, but that could wait. Schooling her features into a smile, she approached him, for he hadn't yet seen her.

"Good morning, Professor," she said as she approached him, and he turned to her with a smile. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

"Not at all," he replied, still smiling. "I'm grateful that you were able to take the time to help me."

"Ah, you men are hopeless at choosing things that a woman will like," she laughed. "Come and let us chat while we walk."

Her hand slipped into the crook of his arm, which surprised him, but he turned to walk with her. "Of course."

"I understand that you intend to buy Calyxa a ring as a precursor to a binding ceremony and legal marriage."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Be aware that it is customary for a Janarra witch to also give a ring to her man," she explained. "If she accepts your offer of marriage, she will then present you with a ring of her own within a few days."

First, he looked startled, but then he nodded. "Okay. Thanks for letting me know."

"Also, be aware that as the consort of the contessa has a position to uphold." She paused to choose the correct words. "It may be wise to use a small fraction of the amount you intend to spend on the ring to invest in gently used robes of excellent quality. Perhaps I can guide you to the appropriate shops."

Lupin looked at her with a frown, and his feelings seemed to be tangled inside of him. Like many Janarra, Brigida did not have the self-discipline to develop her abilities as the Ancient Ones did, but she still had some ability to sense strong emotions. What was wrong with the man? He couldn't be proud, could he? Poor, silly, clueless man!

"I can take you to the shop where Marin's robes are bought," she offered. How could a lower class schoolteacher who had trouble feeding himself refuse to patronize such a shop? "Or, if you like, the shop Prince Alvise favors, although that may be a bit old fashioned for a young wizard such as yourself."

"I haven't got much," he admitted, frowning.

"You won't need much," she assured him as she steered him down an alley on the left. "And wearing better robes will enable you to arrange a more favorable price at the jeweler. A gentleman is always welcomed before a pauper."

It took him a moment to reply. "I understand."

With a little gentle coaxing, Brigida was able to convince him to purchase two sets of excellent second-hand robes. In his rich dove-grey robes and with his hair combed down, he chose a luminous white pearl set in platinum that she knew would suit Calyxa to perfection. The bargaining took only a few minutes, and all the parties seemed satisfied with the result.

In the end, Brigida came to understand why Calyxa had fallen in love with this man with his controlled passions and practiced façade. Nevertheless, she doubted that the Janarra would welcome him as the countess's consort.

* * *

_Gorgeous. Beautiful. Perfect. _

At home that night, Remus spent a long time studying the ring. Settled as it was on a dark blue silk in the small box, it looked creamy and iridescent to his eyes, and he knew that Calyxa would love it. Tonight, she was out socially, so he was staying at his place; he had chosen this day to go to the jewelry shop so that in case he was later than usual, she wouldn't be suspicious.

After thinking it over, he decided to give it to her during the weekend. His nature was not romantic, so he didn't plan anything more special than giving her the ring and asking her; he couldn't imagine getting down on his knees or anything else dramatic. Calyxa didn't like that kind of exhibition, anyway, he knew. The pretty ring would be enough.

The sound of someone pounding on the door surprised him. Who could it be? No one came here. Only Calyxa, of course, but she had gone out to dinner with friends. Besides, she wouldn't pound on the door in such a rough way.

After tucking the tiny box into an inner pocket, he went to answer the door and was shocked to find Sirius standing there with his arm raised to knock again. "Sirius!" He grabbed the taller man in a hug. "How are you?"

"Fine." Sirius returned the embrace before pushing past and entering the lounge. "Trouble's brewing, Moony," he said as he went.

"Trouble?" Remus trailed his friend, having forgotten the ring and the proposal.

"Voldemort has returned." Sirius paced on the hearthrug as he talked.

"_Returned? _" Remus sank down on the sofa, blinking.

"He's regained corporeal form." Sirius's pacing ceased, and he turned to face Remus. "Dumbledore sent me here. I've already alerted some of the others."

"What others?" asked Remus, frowning and feeling stunned and overwhelmed.

Sirius paused for a moment and then took in a deep breath. "The other members of the Order of the Phoenix."

* * *

Acknowledgment: The usual joyful shoutout goes to Clara Minutes for beta-reading.

Author Notes: It seems as though June and July were totally taken up with visitors whom I had to squire around The City. Those of you who live near a popular tourist attraction will understand exactly what I mean. That seems to be over now, I hope. I'm looking for a full-time job _and_ a place to live while having man-trouble... but in typical Zen Lady style, it's really _men_-trouble. :-P The net result is that I haven't had much time to write (or think!), especially since I have no long-winded lectures on Soil Physics or Hazardous Waste Management to attend!


	48. Spy With Me

**Chapter 47: Spy With Me**

Once Amanita had gone to bed, Calyxa returned to the sitting room where Remus was waiting for her. For a silent minute, she stood in the doorway, looking at him before he was aware of her presence. Since the tragic events at Hogwarts, they had spent little time together, and she had missed him. Other than that, not much had changed in her life. The single protective measure she had taken was to instruct Mrs. Chalaza and Gocciolina that they were to take Amanita to Prince Borodin's villa without hesitation at any hint of trouble or danger. Now, however, having Remus alone contented her.

"I am glad to have you all to myself once more," she purred as she sat near him on the couch.

He smiled and took hold of her hand. The lines on his pale face showed her how tired and worried he was, but his eyes drank in the sight of her, and he seemed to relax. Although she knew he had been busy doing things for Dumbledore, she did not ask about that work. No, she knew that these quiet evenings refreshed him, and she didn't want to make him speak of unpleasant topics.

"A few months ago, I was worrying that I'd never see you when Amanita came home," he told her with a grin. "Now it's _me_ that's neglecting _you_."

"I am glad you are here now." Her eyes caressed him, and she squeezed his fingers. "It is enough."

"Sweetheart," he said in a tender and breathless voice, "will you – will you marry me?"

The bald proposal surprised her, and she blinked at him, which made him look tense and uncertain. "My love! Yes, of course," she agreed, embracing him with strong, excited arms. "Remus! Darling!"

As he closed his arms around her, he exhaled a long breath of relief and then laughed. "You'll take a penniless schoolteacher?"

"Any day that you name," she replied, nuzzling his ear. "But are you certain that you wish to marry into a matriarchal family?"

"Absolutely certain." He shifted her back for a kiss and then held her back to look at her. "Do I have to take your name?"

"Remus! Of course not," she laughed, stroking his arms with both hands.

"Pay a dowry?"

She laughed harder. "Oh, yes, a very large one!"

"Hmm. Think this'll be enough?" He held out his hand to show her something; when she glanced at the object, she recognized what it was: a ring in a jeweler's box.

"Oh! Remus!" she breathed, looking up at him, astounded and overwhelmed.

"Here." With shaking hands, he took the ring, drew up her hand, and slid it onto the correct finger.

"Oh, Losna," she whispered, staring at it. A pearl. How had he known? "Did Marin tell you to get me a pearl?" she whispered.

"No. Do you like pearls?" He sounded pleased. "It just seemed to be something that would suit you. Beautiful. Elegant."

She put both arms around him and kissed him, her lips caressing his. He returned the embrace, kissing and holding her in his arms, his hands stroking her hair. Then she hugged him, her arms wrapping around him and squeezing him with all her strength. "My darling, darling Remus," she whispered in his ear.

"I'm glad I picked it," he replied, returning the strong hug. "I had an idea that you'd like it."

"It is perfect." She sat up and placed the palms of her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. "You are perfect."

"I'm glad someone thinks so," he said, and she could feel both his flattered pleasure and his embarrassment.

"You do not understand." Joy radiated from her: she couldn't help laughing but tears formed in her eyes at the same time. "The pearl. It is what I feel when I am near you. Even when we were children. Always. You have been like a pearl to me. Precious, exquisite, strong."

"Really?" He was laughing too, but his eyes were soft, vulnerable. Down deep, she could feel how her words and the emotions behind them affected him, struck the depth of his being and created waves of affection and delight.

Some of the tears escaped from her eyelashes. "The oyster creates the pearl to protect itself from the irritation of a grain of sand, and in the same way, that quality in you eases me of pain."

"Sweetheart." He held her close, cradling her against his chest. For a time, they breathed together and lived in that one moment of perfect tenderness and beauty before either moved or thought of speaking.

Remus was the first to break the spell. "Now that _that_'s settled, tell me what horrors await me as the consort of the contessa in your matriarchal clan."

Calyxa sat up and frowned as she studied him. "It may seem strange to you. Although it is not commonly known, one of the bitterest points of contention on my divorce from Borodin was his villa outside Florence."

"He fought to keep it?" Remus mused.

"Not at all. No, I insisted that he keep it, but that was a terrible insult and blow to his honor – to take the family home away from a mother and child!"

"So he _wanted_ you to have it?"

"No. Me not having it devastated his honor." She sighed in resignation as she recalled the harrowing days of the divorce proceedings. "Why do you think he helped you to find work? Why do you think he and Plautilla do not live there together?"

From the confused frown creasing his brow, she realized that he couldn't understand what she was getting at. "No, I don't know why. Tell me."

For a second, she considered what to say. "For us, the women pass on more than names to our children. Everything belongs to women – property, possessions, children. Women can take up or leave men as they please, but all property remains with the women and children. A man goes to live with the woman and her family, thus giving up his own."

To Remus, who had grown up in a patriarchal society, it seemed strange. "Okay, but I don't see what it has to do with our situation."

"Borodin is a selfish man." She rose and went over to look out the window. "Even though I legally gave the villa to him, the Janarra still think it should be mine. He cannot move his woman into the house without sacrificing public dignity, which is everything to him." She turned back to him with a smile. "It is why he likes to see us settled together, you and I. It frees him to settle with Plautilla."

He nodded slowly. "What about Marin? He brought his wife to live in your –" He stopped in the middle of the sentence and frowned at her. "Your father's house. Is it yours?"

"My father is still living," she reminded, walking back to him. "But it will pass to me upon his death."

"And then Marin and his family have to move out?"

"Certainly not!" she laughed and held out her hand for him to clasp. "We may live there as well if we wish, but they will stay. It was agreed even before my mother died."

"I think we should fix up _my_ house and live there once we're married." He stood up, still holding her hand. "But right now, it's time for bed."

As always, a delicious shiver ran through her when he gazed at her with the dark heat of desire in his eyes. "Yes," she replied in a soft voice. "It has been too long."

With his free hand, Remus took hold of her chin and kissed her on the mouth. Then he led her by the hand upstairs.

* * *

If he had his own choice in the matter, Severus Snape would work alone and in secret, without any of the other members of the Order knowing what he was doing. Of course he couldn't trust most of those idiots to keep his involvement a secret, so he had had to convince the Dark Lord that he was pretending to work with the Order to spy on Dumbledore. It had to be done, he knew, but with so many fools on both sides, he was going to have to be vigilant and cautious.

Although he knew that Calyxa di Janarra was no fool, she did have unpredictable foolish weaknesses and a sentimental heart. If circumstances warranted his trusting her, he would do it, but he didn't think he'd trust her under pressure. Not when his life and the lives of many others depended on it.

Dumbledore assured him that she could be depended on to find out things that no one else could. The wily old wizard didn't explain how; instead, he urged Severus to go with him to talk to the contessa. If she agreed to help, and Dumbledore seemed confident that she would, then Severus would learn what he had always hungered to know: what the Janarra's wild magic was capable of achieving. With all that in mind, Severus accompanied the headmaster on a visit to the contessa's house out in the quiet countryside.

"Severus can provide us with invaluable information," Dumbledore explained to her in her elegant parlor over a glass of wine. "However, there is much he cannot determine for certain. Some of the others don't trust him, and there are a few things we really do need to know."

"The Headmaster says you have to ability to perceive thoughts and memories without the benefit of Legilimency," Severus went on.

"_Legilimency_?" she repeated as if she wasn't completely familiar with the word. She frowned at Severus and then Dumbledore. "Can you both do that?"

"Not nearly as easily as the Janarra can enter another's mind," answered Dumbledore.

"You know very well that it is difficult and sometimes painful for me," she replied with an accusatory look at the old wizard.

"Yes, which is why you will understand the severe nature of this request." Dumbledore's voice had gown gentle, soothing.

Calyxa rolled her eyes. "Very well. What is it that you want me to do?"

"For publicity's sake, you will pretend to be involved socially with Severus as your latest paramour."

Even as Dumbledore said the words, Severus felt himself cringe inwardly at the idea of the elegant contessa being seen with him.

"That way, you will have access to some of the key people and Death Eaters whose knowledge and inclinations we would like to know. Since this type of Janarra ability is totally undocumented and unknown, there will be little danger of you being exposed."

At first, Calyxa had looked surprised; after listening to what he had to say, however, she rose and paced a little with her arms wrapped around her. "I _am_ concerned about the danger, of course, but I am willing to take the risk. There is another problem, though."

"Oh?" asked Dumbledore. "What is it?"

A little sigh escaped her lips. "Well. The problem is that I am engaged to be married. My fiancé…" She stopped pacing and turned to look at them. "Well, if I agree, I shall have to tell him everything."

Snape arched a brow at the headmaster, for his sources had been sure that she was unattached and dated a variety of eligible wizards. "We have no wish to affect your personal life," he said, "but the life of a spy requires the ability to lie without a guilty conscience."

"I have no doubt that the contessa is quite expert in concealing the truth," said Dumbledore. "However, I don't think there is any reason not to tell your friend everything. He is trustworthy, is he not?"

Looking wary, she nodded.

"I'm afraid that's not good enough," replied Snape with annoyance approaching anger. "Empath or not, whatever you are, fondness will make you blind to your lover's weakness."

"You are, as usual, correct, Severus," said Dumbledore. "In this case, I suspect that the man in question is someone whom you know to be trustworthy."

The lady's eyes flew to the elderly wizard's. "You knew?"

"Let us say that I suspected," he said with a smile and twinkling eyes. "It will be well enough for me to assure Severus that your friend is trustworthy. I think, though, that as he will be taking even greater risks than you, he deserves to know the complete truth."

Trustworthy? Severus's mind raced. Her lover must be a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he realized with a sick feeling in his stomach. Could she have renewed her affair with her former lover? The hideous realization made Severus blanch.

"You are right, of course, professor," she replied. "Forgive me, Severus, I did not mean any offense."

"Not _Black_," Severus growled. It simply could not be true.

"Sirius?" she asked in surprise. "No, of course not. I have been seeing Remus Lupin, you see, and because of his condition, it seems wisest to be careful."

Snape's lip curled into a sneer. Lupin. In some ways, he was worse than Black. "His _condition_? Indeed? How charming. The tame werewolf has found himself a _mate_."

Dumbledore frowned at him, but he need not be concerned. The lady smiled in response. "Severus, I respect your right to your own opinion, but if we are to project the image of being intimate friends and lovers, then I shall ask you to refrain from making such unflattering remarks."

Of course, he should not have been so shocked. After all, he had seen them together for nearly the whole school year when they had both been at Hogwarts, and he had thought they had been lovers even back then. Knowing he had no choice, he stared at her before giving a curt nod. "Very well. Tell him. But no one else."

* * *

Acknowledgments: Kudos to the ever reliable, dependable Clara Minutes for beta-reading


	49. Professor Snape's Girlfriend

Warning: language

* * *

**Chapter 48: Professor Snape's Girlfriend**

The first evening that Calyxa went out with Severus turned out to be a pleasant one, and although she learned only a few small items that might be of interest to the Order, the whole event reminded her of a successful run through or dress rehearsal for an ensuing performance. Even Severus had agreed later that the situation had proved useful in providing them with an opportunity to play their new roles without anything important at stake.

When they entered an exclusive Wizarding night spot together, conversations hushed a little as people murmured behind hands. The muted sound of the staff moving ceased. Even the ambient music seemed to quiet as the maitre d' escorted the new arrivals to their table.

Calyxa wore low-cut, dark red robes tailored to fit her curved figure, and her hair was combed up into a plain coil. The robes were simple, for the intense color was enough to make others sit up and take notice. As she glided across the floor with her back held straight in the tightly-fitted robes, Severus followed with a sneer on his face.

When they had been seated and served an aperitif, the lady smiled as she chatted with him. "Severus," Calyxa said to him in a low voice and with an enticing smile. "I am afraid that you will have to at least _pretend_ to take some pleasure in my company."

"Yes, of course, my dear." His scowl disappeared, and a little smile appeared on his lips. "Can you actually breathe in those robes?"

"I can breathe as long as I sit up straight," she purred, leaning towards him as if to share a private comment. "If I slouch or recline, I cannot draw a breath."

"I would usually say that it was foolish vanity," he began with a humorous edge to his voice, "but I'll just say that you should wear such revealing things whenever we go out."

"Believe me, I will," she said with a chuckle. "There is nothing more useful for maintaining good posture, I can tell you honestly!"

He nodded, his eyes examining her as he mused. "I suppose your being here means that your _fiancé_ agreed to the charade," he said. "Is he the jealous type?"

"Not at all," she replied with a smile, thinking about Remus's wicked tendency for voyeurism and how he had reacted when informed of Calyxa's new role. "He did not like me putting myself in danger, as you can understand, but he is no hypocrite."

"I doubt we'll meet any paupers while we're together," he said, "but if we _do_ see him, we can't falter."

"I have some experience in posing as a lover," she replied with a laugh. In the distant past, when she had posed as Sirius's girlfriend in order to fool his parents, they had worked out ahead of time how they would behave if they had to kiss or pretend they were snogging. Now, as adults, there would be no pretending and no modesty. Everyone except Professor Dumbledore and Remus had to be made to believe they were lovers. Of course, Calyxa realized that Severus enjoyed the idea that he was causing discomfort or distress for Remus. If only he knew that their façade had the opposite effect on the werewolf!

As it turned out, someone Severus knew, rather than one of her many acquaintances, spotted them and invited them to join their group at another table. Beforehand, Calyxa and Severus had set up a series of subtle signals and warnings to indicate to each other what to do in certain situations. Therefore, when Severus gave a bored shrug, Calyxa knew that she should accept the invitation for them. Not that she needed the signal: with her senses wide open, she could feel what he wanted.

As she was introduced, she said the correct polite words but kept her senses on Severus to know on whom she should concentrate her energies. Only one wizard provided any interest, so her work was simple that night. It would not get any simpler, only harder and more complex. Far more complex and dangerous.

The next morning, she reflected on the success of the mission. Not every evening would go as smoothly, she knew, but they had established themselves as a public couple, and ensuing social events would become easier and smoother for both of them even though the danger would increase. In addition, she trusted Severus completely, so she knew that whatever risks she took, he would be covering her. As long as they were careful, she couldn't imagine anything serious that would jeopardize their cover.

* * *

Waiting in the kitchen of headquarters for everyone to gather for the latest meeting, Sirius balanced his chair on its two back legs. Moony wasn't here yet; Kingsley was reading the paper while Tonks and Molly chattered away. Arthur was sipping a cup of tea as he gazed off into space.

"Look at this." Kingsley laid _The Daily Prophet_ down in the table opened to the gossip pages.

Molly, who was closest, glanced over. "Who is that?"

"Why, it's the Countess di Janarra," said Arthur, craning his neck to get a better look.

"What?" The front legs of Sirius's chair slammed down on the floor. He joined the others on that side of the table, leaning over to look, but what he saw shocked him, for he was not prepared.

In the picture, Calyxa, looking alluring in very low cut robes, was smiling for the camera. Snape's arm was around her waist, and his eyes glittered as his fingers fanned out over her hip: he looked smug and possessive and seemed to stare out at them in triumph as he held the elegant witch close to him.

"I saw her at afternoon tea with Percy last week," admitted Tonks.

Sirius blinked at her, not knowing if he should laugh or not. "You're joking." Calyxa with Snivellus and one of the Weasley boys? He recalled how, last winter, she had mentioned going out with Snape to make his girlfriend jealous. She had also mentioned that an underage boy had invited her to the ball.

"Percy!" cried Molly. "He's too young!"

"It wasn't a _date_," Tonks assured them as Bill Weasley and Mundungus entered the kitchen.

"Of course not. I think she knew Percy from her time at Hogwarts," said Arthur.

"At Hogwarts?" Molly exclaimed.

"I suppose that's where she met Severus," mused Kingsley.

Shaking her head, Molly glared at the picture of the foreign lady in the low-cut robes. "Why would she prey on young boys, then?"

"I know the countess, and she's a fine lady," Arthur assured her. "It will be excellent for Percy's career to be seen with someone of her stature. Even if it's just afternoon tea."

"I've met her a few times," Tonks offered. "She's really nice. Dead girly, though. Still, she remembered everyone's name and was _nice_. You know. Polite and friendly."

Remus entered then. "Did you know that Calyxa di Janarra was going out with Snape?" Sirius demanded of him.

Remus frowned slightly. "Yes. I believed they started seeing each other last year when he took her to the Yule Ball."

"What the hell is she doing with _him_?"snarled Sirius, feeling frustrated, furious, and jealous. And more importantly, what was wrong with the idiot werewolf?

Remus sighed. "They've always been friends."

"For Merlin's sake, Moony," Sirius continued. "She doesn't belong with that prat." What he didn't say was, _She's _yours. _She's always been yours. _

"From what I hear, she's besotted with Snape," Kingsley added.

"Who is?" asked a familiar, cool voice from the doorway. They all looked over at Snape, who had just entered the kitchen

"Countess di Janarra," said Arthur. "There's a snap of you two in the paper."

Snape strode over and glanced at it. "Ah, yes. A tiresome event last week."

"Why is your… _Italian lady_ taking my Percy to afternoon tea?" Molly demanded. "He's only eighteen!"

The Potions' professor regarded her for a moment. "The contessa is free to choose her friends and acquaintances; she has a great many of them. And before you get too excited over that son, perhaps you should know that one of your other sons – one of the _underage_ twins – wrote to invite her to attend the Yule Ball with him last year."

Molly stared at him in horror with her mouth ajar.

"Really?" asked Arthur in pleasure. "Which one?"

"_Arthur! _" cried Molly.

Snape continued. "That was, of course, after she was seen wearing his dressing gown over her night dress early one morning at the school."

"You're a fucking liar," Sirius snarled, his hands balling into fists.

"Oh, Merlin, no!" Molly cried. "What on earth goes on at that school where innocent children are supposed to be safe?"

"I was there that morning, and it was not at all improper," Moony glanced at Snape with a disapproving look.

"Calyxa told me herself that she asked you to take her to the Yule Ball only because she had to tell the Weasley boy she had another date." Sirius glared at Snape. "And that she only went out with you because she felt sorry for you and wanted to help you make your girlfriend jealous."

Snape stared at Sirius with frigid eyes. "Calyxa is an adult now and has no taste for weak fools," he taunted. "Nor escaped convicts."

"No way would she let a greasy git like you get his hands on her," Sirius retorted.

A cruel smile appeared on Snape's face. "You're in no position to tell _me_ what she would or would not let me do."

Sirius went for his wand at the same time as Snape, but the others came between them. Kingsley, who was closest to Sirius, pushed him back, and Arthur imposed himself in front of Snape.

"What is going on here?" Professor McGonagall stood in the doorway, looking at them with a deep frown wrinkling her brow.

"Nothing important," Sirius muttered as he yanked his arm free from Kingsley's grasp and pushed past the Transfiguration teacher to escape from the kitchen.

"Does he know the countess?" he heard Arthur ask.

"We knew her at school," Moony replied.

"She was Black's girlfriend," said Snape, that bloody arsehole, in a gloating tone. "His fiancée."

"No, she wasn't. They only dated casually," said Remus.

Sirius debated turning back and blasting his moronic former friend with a nasty and painful curse; however, he just stomped up to the sitting room where he paced and resisted the urge to smash something.

What the hell was wrong with Moony? The bloody idiot had ruined Calyxa for life. To be going out with _Snape_ of all people! Snape! The whole idea made Sirius grind his teeth. That greasy, slimy, hook-nosed wanker!

"She can choose her own friends without us interfering," Remus said from the door. "Nothing to protect her from anymore."

"You're an idiot!" Sirius seethed. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

Moony nodded, but he looked away. "I'll explain it all someday. I can't talk about it now."

"You complete and utter bastard," he muttered. "That little witch was bawling over you the last time I saw her. _Bawling_. Over _you_."

Remus looked up at him, then, and he appeared shaken. "I've talked to her a few times since then," he said in a quiet voice. "Things are okay between us. We're all made up."

"You broke up with her in a _letter_," he accused.

Moony blinked twice and then sat down on the nearest chair. "That was nearly twenty years ago," was all he said.

Before Sirius could say anything else, Kingsley appeared in the doorway. "Your discussion is going to have to wait," he told them, looking from one to the other with a frown. "Dumbledore's here, and we're ready to start."

"That's good, 'cause I have nothing else to say, anyway," Sirius muttered, stalking out of the room and back down to the kitchen, where he would spend the entire meeting ignoring both Snape and Moony.

* * *

Author's notes:  
The usual thanks for beta-reading go to the fabulous Clara Minutes

For anyone who has read _Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place_, I have a question for you. The time has nearly come where its timeline will coincide with _Children of the Goddess_. Do you think that the story should mention the character Zen? I hadn't intended to interweave the stories, but three people have already said they'd love to read it. So, let me know what you think: include Zen or not?


	50. The Spy

**Chapter 49: The Spy**

Autumn arrived early, and even though it was just the end of September, Remus drew one of the wing chairs up to the fire in Calyxa's elegant sitting room. Amanita had gone to bed hours ago, and he was reading a book while he waited for Calyxa to come home. She was working tonight: Severus had taken her to a soiree where they expected to encounter some very interesting witches and wizards.

Despite his best efforts to read, he couldn't stop worrying. Although he knew that she could do the job Dumbledore had asked her to do with ease, he hated the idea that she was flirting with such immense danger. Whenever he expressed his concerns, Calyxa pointed out that he put himself in danger as well; however, he didn't worry about his own danger. He was used to it, and besides, she and Severus were balancing on a razor's edge as they played their perilous game. Knowing warm, passionate Calyxa as well as he did, Remus didn't think she had the same ability for deception that cold, haughty Severus did.

Spending the night at Calyxa's had become a rarity over the past few months. The two of them had opposite schedules much of the time, so he had been staying at headquarters to keep Sirius company. Now, however, Sirius had other company, which both relieved and alarmed Remus. A young lady was staying at headquarters in Sirius's care. For various reasons, Dumbledore thought she would distract Sirius from his introspection and misery.

The loud pop of someone apparating caught his attention, and he set down his book and went to greet Calyxa. In the entry hall, Snape was holding Calyxa by her waist. The sight both annoyed and interested him, for although Calyxa thought him devoid of jealousy, his possessiveness often competed with his voyeurism

"Are you sure?" Snape asked her before he caught sight of Remus.

"I assure you, I am fine," she told him with a smile, and the Potions master let go of her and continued to gaze at Remus, who could hear quietness in her voice and recognize weariness in her face.

Seeing that Snape was looking behind her, she turned around. "Ah, Remus," she said with pleasure in her voice, but she tottered as she approached him. She gave him a kiss and then turned back to Snape. "Severus, sit with us a while. I have something we need to discuss."

"Very well," the other wizard replied with a frown. _Probably because he realizes he has to stay even though he'd rather leave_, Remus mused as he supported Calyxa into the sitting room.

With a grateful sigh, she sank into the wing chair that Remus had just vacated. At the same time, she drew her slender, grey wand and used a spell to loosen her robes. "Better," she smiled, taking a deep breath.

Both men watched with interest, for Calyxa rarely used her wand for everyday magic. Her using it indicated the extent of her exhaustion.

"We've set the date for the wedding," she told Snape as he and Remus both chose seats far from each other. "The evening of November 16th. The Dark Moon."

Snape raised one brow. "Why not make it the evening of the full moon? It would be far more interesting."

Calyxa chuckled. "You would enjoy that, eh, Severus?" she teased. "But in all seriousness, we would like you to attend as our guest."

He frowned, looking suspicious.

"The Janarra will conduct the ceremony," she went on, "and we would also like Sirius and Jillian to attend as best man and best lady."

"I see." Snape's lip curled. "So Black will have to be told the truth."

"Certainly," said Calyxa in her usual placid way, not seeming to notice his annoyance.

His eyes moved to Remus. "I suppose this is so you can tell Black that my romance with her is just a cover."

"No," Remus said. "It's silly for us to wait since we're living together, and it'll be better for Amanita this way."

"And it _is_ a time of war," Calyxa reminded. Now she was smiling at Remus with that sweet, warm expression crinkling her eyes. Then she frowned and glanced at Snape, for she had just realized the implications of their exchange. "Do you mean that Sirius believes our romance is real?" she asked in confusion before looking to Remus for clarification.

Remus couldn't help a wry smile. "He does, and he thinks I'm a heel and a swine and a total prat."

"I can well imagine." She looked at Snape, and Remus wasn't sure, but she seemed to be accusing him of something. "Why not just tell him?"

"Because telling him would mean telling everyone," he responded without a trace of guilt or embarrassment; Remus suspected he was speaking the truth. "Whatever he was to you years ago, that wizard has absolutely no talent for subtlety or secret."

"He only sees members of the Order anyway," shrugged Calyxa.

"No one knows," Remus informed her. "None of the Order. Only Dumbledore and me."

"Yes, well that is best," said Calyxa, "for the fewer people who know, the less of a risk it is, but does this affect your friendship?"

"A little," Remus admitted, "but he's an adult. He'll survive. Your safety, and Severus's, is what matters."

Calyxa rolled her eyes a little, but Remus caught an amused glint in her eyes. "Well, then, it remains up to you, Severus," she said. "He is going to find out eventually, and it really is beneath one of your stature to enjoy such petty games."

Snape scowled and was about to reply with something Remus suspected what a cutting remark, but Calyxa went on before the Potions' master could speak. "When November comes, will you agree to let us tell Sirius and Jillian?"

With a grimace, Snape sighed. "You know as well as I do that it's impossible for Black to hold his tongue. As for your friend, what about her husband? Will he attend the ceremony as well?"

Although Remus felt the usual twinge of annoyance at Snape's contrariness, Calyxa burst into laughter. "You can be silly, my dear Severus. Jillian will come alone if you will, and she and Sirius can make an Unbreakable Vow not to tell while our charade continues."

"That won't be necessary," Snape drawled, sounding irritated, and Remus wondered if he realized that Calyxa was joking. "You may tell them when the time comes, but keep it as long as possible."

"When the time comes, they will be told with the understanding that they cannot repeat it to anyone."

* * *

Quite late, Sirius answered the door to find Snape there bearing a figure wrapped in a dark cloak. As he stepped aside to let him in, he asked, "Who is it?" in a low voice so as not to rouse the sleeping paintings.

"One of Dumbledore's spies," replied Snape. "She's ill and needs a safe place to recover."

Sirius nodded. "Shall I take her?"

"I can manage. Lead the way."

Sirius led him up two flights to an empty bedroom where Snape set her down on the white bedcover and unwrapped the cloak. Sirius found himself gazing at an unconscious dark haired witch who was unnaturally pale. She was a petite woman dressed in exquisite, low cut evening robes, and he knew her.

"That's Calyxa di Janarra," he blurted, stunned.

"Your powers of observation are astounding," drawled Snape as he peeled down the covers and sat down to remove the contessa's shoes.

"Why'd you bring her here?"

"Because I cannot take her to Hogwarts, and there's no one to help her at home."

"Where's the little girl?" Sirius demanded. "And the nanny?"

"At Prince Borodin's wedding."

"Prince Borodin's wedding?" Sirius replied, recalling something he had seen in the paper about the occasion.

"He _is_ Amanita's father," Snape informed him, "and he always will be."

Sirius fought down a surly, antagonistic feeling of defensiveness. Even though she was with Snape, he would never be able to repay the kindnesses that Calyxa had shown him through the years. The poor witch was obviously ill and needed help. "What happened to her? Does she need a healer?"

"No. Merely time and rest." Snape frowned and gestured at her luxurious, sexy robes. "These robes are too constricting. Can you find her something else to wear for tonight?"

Sirius scratched his head, finding it hard to look away from the luscious sight of the woman in the sexy robes. "Maybe there's an old nightdress of my mother's, but I doubt there's anything clean enough. Stuff hasn't been used in years."

"Get some of your _own_ robes then," Snape hissed. "Anything clean will do. It doesn't have to be pretty, just warm enough to keep her from catching a chill."

Glaring, Sirius left the room and Snape heard him going up the stairs. He took out his wand and started a fire on the hearth before Sirius returned shortly with plain brown robes. "It's going to be rather big on her," he said looking doubtful.

"She's not dressing for a tea party, you fool," Snape nearly growled. Sirius's eyes flashed and Snape's lip curled into a sneer of satisfaction.

Taking his wand, the Potions' Master used an opening charm to unfasten the scores of tiny buttons on the front of the lady's evening robe. Another flick of his wand and the luxurious robe seemed to shimmer and disappear only to reappear folded neatly upon a chair in the corner. Now, she was wearing only a thin pink silk slip that clung to her figure and covered her only from the top of her bosom down to mid-thigh, and Sirius stared openmouthed. He had not seen so much of a woman's body in years.

"Close your mouth, you drooling Neanderthal," Snape muttered and cast another spell that caused Sirius's brown robe to shimmer and appear on the woman, which made Sirius shake his head in amazement. All schoolboy wizards leaned spells for undressing girls but not for dressing them!

Pulling the bedcovers up over her, Snape leaned down to her. "I have your letter to send to your publisher if you're not better by Monday. Is there anything else I can do?"

Although she did not move perceptively, she seemed to be drawing in a deep breath. The words that her lips formed were a murmur. "Remus. Tell him."

Snape sighed. "Very well, he'll be informed. Goodnight, then."

Sirius followed him into the hall feeling rather excited by the knowledge that the woman was nearly naked under his old brown robe and rather confused about the whole situation. First, he wondered if she were wearing some lacy knickers or perhaps something silky. Forcing the crude thoughts from his mind, he addressed Snape. "What do we have to tell Remus?"

With a look of disgust, Snape said, "Did your friend the werewolf not inform you that he had found... a mate?"

Sirius stopped dead. A _mate? _ Remus had a _girlfriend? _ And had said nothing? Remus and Calyxa di Janarra – after all these years – and he had said _nothing? _ He had let her go out with Snape, let Sirius believe that she was with Snape, sleeping with _Snape_, for Merlin's sake!

"He doesn't kiss and tell," he managed to mutter at his hated enemy. "He's a gentleman."

"Unlike yourself," sighed Snape as they reached the ground floor again. "Much as I hate to leave a helpless woman alone with an escaped convict who hasn't as much as seen a woman in fifteen years, I must get back." His cold black eyes regarded Sirius with contempt. "_Do_ try to control your carnal urges, Black. She's _supposed_ to be safe here."

Sirius's face darkened. "Get out."

"With pleasure," said Snape, yawning as he passed out the front door.

Sirius paced in the hallway, wondering what the hell was going on. Calyxa and Remus – finally! But why was she going out with that slimy git?

He went up the stairs to check on the sleeping witch. There she was, pale and ill, curled among the starched sheets. The covers had slipped off her shoulder, and he drew them back up over her. Although she had always had a pale complexion, she looked almost greenish against the pure white pillows, and it concerned him. _Moony's girlfriend_, he thought, looking at her with a frown. _Moony's mate_.

In his mind, sorting out the fact proved to be overwhelming. Calyxa, the contessa, the princess he had known in his youth. All of it melted into one pretty, pale woman wearing silky lingerie under his brown robes. Poor, ill little thing.

He couldn't remember what it was like to have a girlfriend, and he envied Moony. A few days earlier, the depression he had been experiencing in different intensities had lifted when Jodie had come to say; she had been a pretty, dark-haired woman and a real live wire. The first two women that Dumbledore had brought to stay at headquarters had been disasters, but Jodie had looked at him with interest. He recalled the way women used to look at him. Before Azkaban, of course.

The first two had found his appearance… lacking, but Jodie hadn't. For a few hours, Sirius had actually thought Dumbledore's crazy plan might work. When Jodie heard the truth, though, about why the old wizard had brought her here, she had lost her temper. Although he really couldn't blame her for that, her rejection sliced open something painful in his chest.

With a deep sigh, he slipped off his shoes and peeled the covers down enough so he could crawl in behind her. Smiling in satisfaction, he wrapped his arm around her and spooned against her back. He would never try to touch her; he doubted he was physically able to enjoy any woman yet. But, still, he longed to belong, to sleep alongside his friend's woman, to be a man who protected someone smaller, weaker, someone helpless and vulnerable. As he drifted off to sleep, he knew that she was safer now that he was here.

* * *

Thanks to Clara Minutes for beta reading.

Author's note:

Thanks to everyone who sent a message, emailed, or left a comment about the inclusion of Zen. Just remember the metaphysics of _Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place_: Zen entered the story because Dumbledore and the others knew a lot of what was going to happen, including the time and place of Sirius's death. Those circumstances won't figure in this story, but it should still work in a subtle way.

Also, searching for jobs and preparing and sending out letters and resumes takes up most of my time, so writing will be slow for a while. I'm sure you've all noticed already that it's a long time between updates.


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